


This Is Right

by Limax25



Category: Once Upon a Time (TV)
Genre: Crime, Hurt and comfort, Mystery, Romance
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-03-08
Updated: 2016-03-25
Packaged: 2018-05-25 10:09:50
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 12
Words: 33,812
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6190816
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Limax25/pseuds/Limax25
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A series of old cold cases are getting warm again and Detective David Nolan has been assigned to investigate. Will an accidental meeting with the mysterious Mary Margaret yield more than just a beautiful face? OUAT real world AU rating T-M. Many characters will appear. I own nothing but the plot.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Nightmare

Hello all! Without giving too much away, this is an AU real world story mainly focusing on David and Mary Margaret. This story will also feature most of our favorite characters and some new pairings. This first chapter is a little short, but it's just to set up the story. The rest will be longer. I have quite a bit planned so this will be at least a 5 chapter adventure. I'm excited about this story and very much hope you'll enjoy it. Let me know what you think! 

* * *

 

Chapter 1: Nightmare

_Blood was starting to pool around her knees as she knelt and clutched his hand. It was as if she was trying to anchor him there in that moment, afraid he would leave if she let go. He looked at her with the softest expression she had ever seen him give, and squeezed her hand weakly. His eyes began to close. Panic started to set in as she shook his shoulders._

_"No, no, no you can't leave me. Wake up!" she cried._

_His slow breathing hitched as her shaking brought him back again. He opened his eyes, searching for hers. "It's ok… It… It'll be ok," he replied softly. "This is… right." Her tears started to spill over and run down her cheeks at his words. He lifted his hand to stroke her face, and she closed her eyes at the touch. "It's ok," he reaffirmed, taking her hand with his again and resting both on his chest. His eyes fluttered, then closed for the last time, and Mary Margaret screamed._

Mary Margaret could hear herself scream as she was falling out of her bed, sheets wrapped around her body so tightly that she could barely do anything to stop her momentum. She lay there in the tangle of blankets on the floor, the paralyzing fear from her dream still causing her heart to beat hard and fast. She sat up, leaning on one hand, trying to get her breathing back under control. Her left knee and cheek stung from falling, but that wasn't what brought the tears to her eyes. Her dream, no nightmare, had been so vivid. So real. It was like she was there again, covered in his blood. She took deep, shaky breaths, willing her body to calm itself.

"Guess I'm done sleeping," she muttered after a few minutes, disentangling herself from her blankets and sitting shakily on the edge of her bed. Her nightgown was sticking to her clammy skin, causing her to shiver. She rubbed her eyes, trying to wipe the images of her nightmare away. They continued to sneak into her thoughts, too vivid to block out so easily. She stood and walked into the bathroom to rinse her face with cold water. She dried off with a hand towel and looked at herself in the mirror. She saw the red mark on her cheekbone that would most likely bruise by morning. Her fair skin was unforgiving in times such as these. She sighed, placed the towel back on the rack and made her way to the kitchen to make some hot chocolate.

After the milk was set to warm up, she pulled a stack of papers out of her work bag. She checked the clock and groaned at the sight. "Nothing like grading papers at 4:00A.M. to start the day off right," she commented to herself, trying to focus on anything else besides what had awoken her. She shook her head and went to get her favorite mug to pour the hot milk in. "Great, now I'm talking to myself. Get it together Blanchard." She finished preparing her drink, sprinkled some cinnamon on top to finish it off, and brought it to her lips. She enjoyed the warmth the mug brought to her fingers.

She sat at her counter, wrapped in a red throw blanket, grading her students' papers and sipping her hot chocolate. She could almost feel her tension start to dissipate, for which she was grateful. After a while, a yawn interrupted her work and she turned her bleary eyes towards the clock that read 5:10A.M. As much as she wanted to curl back up in bed, the thought of returning to her dreams again made her shiver. _Shower, get dressed, then go get coffee_ , she decided. _The early bird catches the worm..._


	2. Potential

Chapter 2: Potential

_Beep beep beep beep beep…._

David woke with a groan and rolled over to turn off his alarm clock with a little more force than necessary. It's 5:30A.M. and, for the life of him, he just wants to go back to sleep. Under normal circumstances, he didn't even need an alarm clock to wake up on time. However, the past months being what they were, he wasn't taking any chances. Waking early and burning the midnight oil for the past several weeks had done nothing to improve his outlook on mornings, but he could definitely not afford to sleep in today. All of his research and digging have led to a lead and there was no way he was going to miss this chance at potentially busting this case wide open. If anything, he was hoping to at least crack it.

He forced himself out of bed and shuffled to the bathroom to get in a quick shower to wake himself up. After washing, he let the hot water run over him, relaxing his tense muscles. He tentatively rotated his left shoulder. In the wake of the recent cold front that had come through New Haven, his old wound tended to be sore and stiff until properly worked out. Overall, it didn't bother him too much, the soreness tending to be more of a nuisance than anything. He was only twenty eight, but sometimes his body made him feel much older.

David's internal clock went off, pushing him to get out and get ready. He dressed casually in jeans and a flannel shirt and placed his badge in his wallet instead of its usual place on his belt. He would leave his weapon in his unmarked squad car as well, against the protests of his partner. He knew discretion would be key if he hoped to get any worthwhile information and showing up to a public meeting with a potential informant carrying his service weapon would be anything but. He shrugged on his jacket before gathering up the case files he had been pouring over last night and shoved them in his bag, putting the strap over his shoulder. He made his way down the stairwell of his two story apartment building, noting the frost on the windows.

"Good morning Mr. Nolan! Hope you're bundled up, it's turning miserable out there."

He turned to see the elderly front desk clerk peering at him, looking him up and down as if to double check he had dressed properly. He smiled and made his way to the desk.

"Have you been fretting over the phone with my mother again Mabel?" he teased, leaning his forearms on the desk. "And what's with 'Mr. Nolan'? You know to call me David."

"Not while I'm working, dear, it's not proper," she replied, patting his folded hands with her own. In response to his questioning glance, she lowered her voice, "The new landlord talked to me a few days ago about being too soft with our tenants. He wants things to be more professional and businesslike. 'Tighten the ship' he said."

David's eyebrows furrowed. "Did he come here himself this time? Or did he send one of his employees to do his grunt work again?"

Noting David's concerned expression, Mabel took his hands with hers and held them. "Don't worry, dear. This old lady has a thing or two up her sleeves to keep things right. Besides," she pulled away, reaching under the desk to grab a scarf that looked hand knitted, "someone has to keep an eye on you and if I get myself fired where would you be?"

David chuckled, accepting the scarf from her. It was a tan color, and very soft. He put it on right away, knowing it would lighten her mood after talking about his new landlord. He had never met the man, but if what Mabel said was true, this small apartment building was in for a lot of changes. After moving out of his step father's house when he was eighteen, he had found this place in an ad. It was cheap, as far single room apartments in this city go, and he liked the homey atmosphere created mostly by the woman in front of him. She was a sort of adoptive grandmother to him and she took her job very seriously.

"Oh, I'm sure I'd be in dire straights," he quipped, grinning at her.

"Indeed you would," she responded in mock seriousness. He laughed at that, which earned him a laugh in return. She looked at him fondly, then checked the clock on the wall behind her.

"You should be heading out. It's about that time."

He glanced up at the clock reading 6:15A.M. Yes, he'd better get moving. He gave her another smile.

"See you in the morning Mabel. Call me if you need me to pick anything up for you."

"Yes, yes, of course," she replied, waving him off. She watched him leave, hoping one of these days he'd stop these odd work hours and get good rest for once. He was looking tired, and that worried her. Here you go being the fretting old bitty again, she thought to herself. Still, with David's mother moving back to their hometown after separating from his step father a few years back, someone close had to fret. That boy would do anything for anyone and would neglect himself to do so. She sighed, hoping work wouldn't keep him out too long today.

* * *

 

David walked into the station and set his bag with the files on his partner's desk. He looked around, noticing his absence among the few people who dragged themselves into the office this early.

"Where's Sean?" he asked.

"Right here," came a familiar voice as the man himself walked through the door towards his desk.

"Sorry, Ashley was sick again this morning. I ran and got her some ginger ale before coming here. The doctor said ginger is a natural way to reduce morning sickness. It does seem to help her but at the rate I'm buying it I should be investing in some of their company stock."

David chuckled at his partner's attempt at humor. He knew Sean was worried about his fiancé, but tried to do his best to brush it off. Sean had joined the department about a year and a half ago as a rookie. David could see his earnestness to be fair and honest as well as his optimism for not only the people they served but also those they took into custody. He had taken Sean under his wing and they eventually became partners. Neither of them bragged about it, but it was well known that their patrol area had the best crime rate in the city. That was why they were chosen to start uncovering the cold case they were currently working on. Sean may still be a bit green, but they worked well together.

"I'm sorry to hear she's still under the weather. When is it supposed to stop?" he asked.

"Well, it varies, but from what I've read it usually stops around three months along. She's four. I'm hoping soon. She's having trouble working and is feeling a bit useless. I tried to reassure her but it doesn't work very well."

"Hmm," David responds, taking the files out of his bag and placing them on Sean's desk. "That must be hard, not feeling well but wanting to contribute like you're used to."

"Yeah," Sean responded, distracted by the files. After a moment he said "Well, let's save this therapy session for after our meet and greet today, what do you think?"

David smiled and nodded, taking the cue from his partner to get back to work. He sat at his desk next to Sean's and turned his computer on. Given both their tardiness this morning, this morning's briefing would be quick.

"I'm going to get coffee from that little shop a block West of where our guy agreed to meet. I'll walk the rest of the way, sit at the designated table, and wait until 07:30. After I meet with our guy, I'll walk to the gas station two blocks South," David recited.

"I'll drop you off a block North from the coffee shop and move to sit around the corner from the meeting place in case anything suspicious happens. I'll meet you after at the gas station two blocks South." After a pause, Sean looked at David seriously.

"Are you sure about leaving your gun with me? It makes me antsy leaving you without a defense."

"I'll just charm my way out of trouble, you know that," David responded, a smile playing at his lips. Sean rolled his eyes at that, clearly not appeased by his partner's attempt at humor. He respected David and his decision making, but that did little to ease his mind in instances where his senior partner was putting himself at unnecessary risk. Sensing Sean's train of thought, David forced his facial expression into seriousness.

"This is a big case, Sean. I know the risks but I also know the rewards if we can pull this off. I trust you to have my back if something goes awry. I need you to trust my instincts on this."

Sean contemplated his words for a moment, then nodded. David turned around and pulled his weapon out of the locked drawer of his desk and handed it over. Sean took it, jaw clenched tight, but he didn't say anything more about it. Glancing up at the clock, David saw it was almost 6:45A.M. Sean followed his gaze, saw what time it was, and stood up to get the keys to their unmarked car. David rose to follow him, anticipation for what could potentially happen today stirring deep inside of him.

Unbeknownst to David, fate had more planned for him than he bargained for.


	3. 7:15A.M.

Chapter 3: 7:15A.M.

_Fifteen years earlier_

Mary Margaret walked slowly down the long hallway towards her parent's bedroom. The marble floors echoed at every footstep, but she had removed her shoes at the front door to avoid making too much noise as she came upstairs. After all, Father told her many times to take care and make sure not to be too loud. Upon reaching the door, she opened it as quietly as she could and peeked inside. The single occupant of the large four poster bed inside the bedroom stirred and turned to face her. The woman looking at her was beautiful, despite the dark circles under her eyes and the too-thin frame of her body that made her look almost fragile. To add to that image, she appeared to be surrounded by many large pillows that helped prop her up in bed. A true smile graced her features at the sight of Mary Margaret and she held out her hand to her.

"Sweetheart, please come in," her mother said. Smiling in return, Mary Margaret entered the bedroom, closing the door softly behind her. She wrapped her mother in a hug, taking care not to squeeze too tightly or brush the IV that was taped to her left hand.

"How are you feeling, Mother?," she asked, pulling away to look at her face. She looked tired but content at the moment. Her breathing was more labored today, and Mary Margaret made a mental note to tell her father about this as soon as he came home from the benefit gala. He had many to attend this time of the year as the holiday season was coming up.

"Much better now that my girl is home," she replied, cupping Mary Margaret's cheek in her hand. Mary Margaret closed her eyes, leaning into the touch. She knew her mother loved to do this and, she had to admit, so did she. Mary Margaret wanted to give her mother every moment that could possibly make her happy. Her mother's health had declined drastically in recent weeks as the cancer spread throughout her body. After one year of unsuccessfully trying to find a treatment, her mother made the choice to return home to be with her family in her final days. Every moment spent with her was a gift to both of them, Mary Margaret wanting her mother to feel and know she was treasured and her mother wanting Mary Margaret to have good memories of her love, even at the end.

"How was school today? Did something happen?" her mother asked gently after a few moments. She could tell her daughter had been crying.

"It was.. ok.. but I wanted to be home with you," Mary Margaret admitted a bit tearfully. Every time she left the house her heart ached, hoping her mother would be awake when she came home and that they could talk just like this. Moments like these were becoming fewer and fewer and she didn't want to waste them by going to school. She wouldn't tell her mother about the cry she'd had in the bathroom at lunch or about the boys that made fun of her for it afterwards. Their taunts and laughter echoed in her ears. She bit her lower lip, forcing the painful memory away.

"I know, sweet girl. I missed you too," her mother replied, brushing a loose strand of Mary Margaret's long, curly hair behind her ear. The effort seemed to tax her so she rested her hands on her chest while Mary Margaret held them. Her mother opened her mouth to speak again but stopped as they heard footsteps coming towards the bedroom. They both turned their heads as the bedroom door was opened and Mary Margaret's father walked in. He smiled tenderly at the sight before him and Mary Margaret carefully shuffled to the other side of the bed to make room for him to sit down. He was still dressed in one of his nice suits, but the tie hung loosely around his neck.

"Don't you look fetching," her mother teased as her father kissed her hand reverently.

"Only for my beautiful Ava and little Princess," he countered, a twinkle in his eye as he kissed his wife's forehead.

Mary Margaret smiled widely at their banter. Though she is only twelve years old, she knew she one day wanted a marriage just like her parents had. The amount of love and respect they had for each other was evident to anyone who met them. Watching her parents reminded her of the book of fairytales her mother used to read to her when she was a little girl that told of heroic, dashing princes and brave, beautiful princesses, and true love. Unfortunately, real life was not like the fairytales of her childhood. Happy endings didn't last forever.

* * *

 

_Present day_

Mary Margaret looked at herself in the mirror, examining the small bruise that was starting to form on her cheek. She typically did not wear much makeup, usually opting for a light foundation and mascara. She added a concealer to the lineup today, hoping to avoid unwanted attention. The last thing she wanted were prying questions from her students and co workers. She didn't want anyone to make assumptions but she also had no desire to recount the nightmare, wishing she herself could just magically forget she'd even had it. Unfortunately, she'd be reminded of it for at least a few days until that bruise faded.

Satisfied that she could pass for looking at least halfway decent today considering her lack of sleep, she gathered up her things and made sure to bundle up against the cold that was predicted for today. She made her way outside to her old truck, hoping the coffee shop wouldn't be too busy so she could finish grading her student's papers at a table.

When she arrived, she was able to claim a nice armchair in the corner by the door. Placing her bag on the side table beside the chair, she went to the counter to order. The barista smiled at her as she approached.

"Good morning, Mary Margaret! You usually don't require caffeine until Thursday. Have too much fun this weekend?" he teased, already entering her usual order on his screen. She rolled her eyes and smirked.

"Something like that. Hey, may I have an extra expresso shot please? It's only 6:15 and I'm already about to fall over and take a nap right here."

He raised his eyebrows in mock seriousness. "Wouldn't want that, would we? People falling asleep in a coffee shop would be bad for business."

"Oh _har har_ ," she responded sarcastically, digging into her purse to pay for her drink. As she waited for it to be made, she leaned her back against the counter and looked out the window to watch the people walking by. She loved people watching, always wondering where they were going and what their stories were. The clearing of a throat turned her attention back to the counter.

"My lady, your pick-me-up," said the barista as he presented her coffee with practiced flourish. She choked back a laugh.

"Really, August? 'My lady'? Does that line ever work for you?" she teased as she took the saucer dish and coffee cup from him.

"I haven't officially tried it yet but I'll keep your not-so-constructive criticism in mind," he rejoined. He looked up as a few more morning regulars entered and glanced back at her. "Have a good day Mary Margaret. Although now it feels like tomorrow should be Friday. Thanks for that," he joked as he made his way back to the register.

"Anything I can do to help you out, August," she retorted, returning his smile.

She made her way through the growing line of people back to her chair, grateful she had gotten to the shop before the morning rush. She took a sip of her coffee, noting the welcome bitterness that accompanied an extra expresso shot. She looked at the coffee cup and saw a bluebird design on it. August always gave her one of the bluebird cups, ever since she'd first started coming there a few years ago. After a couple of weeks, she had asked him why and he merely replied, "It seemed to fit you." He didn't know it, but he was right. She loved all animals, but birds especially.

Placing her coffee on the small table, she took the papers out of her bag and started grading. Once in a while, she'd take a minute to look around and observe the other customers going about their morning. Before she knew it, the grading was done and she was able to sit and enjoy the rest of her coffee for a little while before leaving for school. She shrugged on her coat, scarf, hat, and gloves before putting her bag over her shoulder. She bent to grab the now empty cup and saucer from the table and turned around to take it back to the counter before she left.

Unfortunately, she accidentally bumped into the next customer that was coming through the door, the force of which sent her to the floor. She heard the clinking of breaking dishes as the cup and saucer slipped from her gloved hands and broke around her. _Today can be over any time now_ , she mused inwardly as she glanced up to look at the man she'd so gracefully run into. He had already stooped to help pick up the broken pieces that were nearest to her.

"I'm _so_ sorry, are you alright? I didn't see you around the doorway," he said sincerely, turning his gaze to hers.

 _Oh_ , she thought.

He was very handsome with sandy blonde hair and striking blue eyes. Eyes that were looking at her so intently she forgot to answer him for a moment. She blinked, pulling herself out of whatever _that_ was, hoping she didn't look as thrown off as she felt. _What is wrong with you?_ she mentally chastised herself. _Get a grip_.

"I'm fine, thanks," she responded, casting her eyes down at the floor to help pick up the pieces, "It was my fault I wasn't watching where I was going. Are you ok?" She chanced another look at him, glad that she had pulled herself together enough that he didn't catch her off guard this time. She hated being caught off guard.

He smiled a half smile that threatened to break her resolve again and nodded, "Yes, I'm fine."

Thankfully, August had come over at that moment with a small trash can and broom to sweep up the smaller pieces.

"You break it, you buy it?" Mary Margaret asked him sheepishly.

"Don't worry about it," he reassured her before going back to the counter to resume rush hour.

She looked back at the stranger, who was still watching her. That normally would have made her uncomfortable but for some reason, with him, it didn't. He seemed to jump a bit when she'd caught him looking. He glanced down at the floor and cleared his throat before standing and holding out his hand to help her up. She was glad she had gloves on because she wasn't sure what her reaction would be if she actually touched him. The whole morning had thrown her off, but this was the strangest experience she could ever remember having.

"Thank you," she said as he helped her up. He was taller than her, so she had to look up at him now.

"I'm David Nolan," he offered after a moment, holding out his hand.

"Mary Margaret," she said, shaking his hand.

"It's nice to meet you, Mary Margaret," he said, smiling that charming half smile again.

Oh, she thought again. She managed a small smile in return, then glanced at the clock on the wall that read 7:15A.M. The man named David also looked at the clock, brow furrowing slightly.

"I'd better…" she started, tilting her head towards the door and shouldering her bag again. She needed to get away from this man but, at the same time, part of her didn't want to. It was unnerving.

"Yes, me too," he replied, checking the clock again. "Well," he looked back at her, "Nice.. running into you?" he asked jokingly. She couldn't help but laugh nervously at his attempt at humor and, when he grinned in response, she also couldn't help but notice how lovely his smile was.

"Sorry about that again. I hope you won't be late for anything. It was nice meeting you," she responded, trying to make her getaway from this charming stranger while she could. He stepped aside so she could make her way towards the door. She looked at him one last time to say goodbye, but he spoke first.

"Maybe we'll… run into each other again?" he asked. He looked hopeful and a bit nervous at the same time and Mary Margaret couldn't help but give him a coy smile. _What is this man doing to me_? the guarded part of her cried, but the part of her that was intrigued won over.

"Maybe," she teased, earning herself another smile from him. She opened the door to leave. "Have a nice day, Mr. Nolan."

"You as well," he countered, looking at her with the same intensity as their moments before, but now a hint of curiosity was in his features. She smiled at him one last time and made her way through the door and out to her car. She started up the engine and put the car in drive.

 _What the heck just happened_? she thought as she started towards the school. Now that she was away from him, the guarded part of her was fighting to be heard, furious that she had even entertained the thought of seeing this man again. No, things were too complicated for dangerous thoughts like that. She could at least breathe a sigh of relief that she hadn't given him her phone number or any other pertinent information. She shook her head. It was just one random meeting mixed with a bit of flirting, that was all. No harm, no foul. He probably wouldn't even remember her name by tomorrow. She continued driving, subduing the feelings inside of her that were sad at that prospect.

* * *

 

David walked into the coffee shop at 7:10A.M. to get the coffee he was supposed to be holding at his meet and greet with his new self proclaimed informant. He made his way through the door, unaware of the woman just inside until he ran right into her, sending her sprawling to the floor along with the dishes she was carrying. He immediately stooped down to help pick up the pieces of broken cup, glancing at her legs and hands to make sure she hadn't been cut when she fell.

"I'm _so_ sorry, are you alright? I didn't see you around the doorway," he began, turning his gaze to hers. He stilled when he saw her, unable to look away. She was beautiful. Her green eyes were looking at him warily at first but then seemed to change the longer they looked at each other. They almost looked intrigued. He didn't even notice the length of time it took her to answer his question.

"I'm fine, thanks," she replied, looking down at the floor to help pick up the broken pieces of her cup. "It was my fault I wasn't watching where I was going. Are you ok?"

She looked up at him shyly through her eye lashes, and her cheeks were starting to show a tint of pink. She looked so endearing, David couldn't help but give her a small smile before saying, "Yes, I'm fine."

At that moment, the barista came over to help throw away the broken cup.

"You break it, you buy it?" the woman asked him in a tone that suggested they knew each other personally.

David immediately reached for his wallet, willing to pay for the cup if needed, but the barista declined, telling the woman not to worry about it. He couldn't bring himself to look away from her. Besides her green eyes, she had beautiful pale skin and lips that naturally appeared almost red. She was wearing a hat, but her raven colored hair swooped across her forehead, drawing his attention back to her eyes that were looking at right at him. He jumped out of his musings, realizing she had caught him staring. _Very subtle, David_ , he thought, mentally rolling his eyes at himself.

Embarrassed, he looked at the floor and cleared his throat, then stood and held out his hand to help her off the floor. She accepted with a "Thank you" and allowed him to pull her up, stepping back from him slightly once she was upright, and looked up at him. The angle of her face allowed for better lighting, and her eyes practically sparkled. He noticed a bruise on her cheekbone that was mostly hidden by makeup and wondered how it got there. He could practically see her walls going up around her as he watched her, shielding herself from him. He was used to dealing with people with walls in his line of work, but he had never met anyone that made him want to get past their walls more than this vexing woman in front of him. He felt strangely drawn to her, and wasn't ready to leave without at least knowing her name.

"I'm David Nolan," he offered, holding out his hand and silently praying she'd respond.

"Mary Margaret," she replied, shaking his hand.

"It's nice to meet you, Mary Margaret." He knew he was probably smiling like an idiot, but really didn't care at the moment. He'd gotten her name. She looked at him, almost as if she was intrigued, then gave him a small smile in return. _Wow_ , he thought.

Mary Margaret broke their gaze and glanced to her left, brow furrowing. He looked too and saw the clock on the wall that read 7:15A.M. _Dammit_. He looked back at her.

"I'd better…" she started, tilting her head towards the door and shouldering her bag again. He glanced at her, then at the clock again.

"Yes, me too."

She looked like a deer ready to bolt.

"Well," he looked back at her, "Nice.. running into you?" he joked. She let out a small laugh at that, her smile somehow making her look even more beautiful. He knew he was officially grinning like an idiot now.

"Sorry about that again. I hope you won't be late for anything. It was nice meeting you," she responded, breaking eye contact and starting to move past him. He stepped aside, not wanting her to feel trapped but unable to stop himself from asking his next question.

"Maybe we'll… run into each other again?" He braced himself, unsure of how she would react. For a brief moment, Mary Margaret just looked at him. Then, a coy smile played at her lips that made his heart rate increase.

"Maybe," she said, opening the door and glancing back at him. "Have a nice day, Mr. Nolan."

"You as well," he countered, unable to think of anything else to say as she smiled at him and left the coffee shop.

He watched the door a moment more after she left, then looked at the clock that now read 7:21A.M. He needed to get going, and fast, or he'd miss his informant. Luckily, the line for coffee had died down so it didn't take long to get his drink and get out the door. He walked quicker than he normally would towards the meeting site, trying to collect himself for the information he could be given today. He took a deep breath, willing himself to focus on the task at hand, but his thoughts kept straying to Mary Margaret.


	4. Pieces

Chapter 4: Pieces

_Fifteen years earlier_

David sat forlornly on a bench in the New Haven courthouse, his head bent down as he was fiddling with the buttons of his suit jacket. Normally, he would have loved to look at the marble floors and walls, see the paintings that were at the highest points on the ceiling, and watch the ebb and flow of people coming to and from the different courtrooms. Today, however, the only sort of interest he took in anything was how stuffy and uncomfortable his suit was, and how much he wanted out of it. It was a representation, after all. A representation of the end of his life as he knew it. Everything would change from here on out.

Someone slid onto the bench to sit beside him and David didn't have to look up to see who it was.

"Seriously, David, show a little enthusiasm."

"Leave me alone, James. I know Albert sent you over here."

"Maybe, but you're worrying Mom and Lord knows she won't enjoy herself if you're moping around. Whats your problem?"

David turned to glare at his twin. "My problem? What's your problem? None of this bothers you?"

James raised his eyebrows at the vehemence in his brother's gaze. This was very out of character for David who was normally the calm, collected one of the two. "Why would it? Mom's getting married. We'll have a dad again. Might not be the coolest guy ever but he's alright." He smirked, then added, "Doesn't hurt he's loaded either."

"You're ridiculous," David snapped, turning his gaze back to his hands. "All you care about is what you're getting from this."

"So what? Mom's getting a husband and we get a rich step dad and all the goods to go with it. It's about time we get to stop working our asses off on that stupid farm and get to live for ourselves. I dunno about you, but I think we deserve to live it up after shoveling sheep crap by ourselves for two damn years."

David clenched his jaw, biting back the sharp retorts he was currently screaming at James in his head. Their father had died two years ago in a car accident leaving David, James, and their mother Ruth with the responsibilities of keeping the family farm going. That is, they had to if they wanted to eat. Ruth was unable to do much physical labor after a back injury she'd sustained from falling off of a spooked horse when the boys were five. That shouldered David and James with the brunt of the work load before and after school every day. Ruth would try to hire help when she could, but most of the time it would cost more to hire someone than money they would make.

David took pride in the farm, wanting to keep it running like the generations of his dad's family before him. Generally speaking, he was closer to his mom than his dad. However, he learned all that he could from his dad about tending to the sheep, milk cows, and horses. They had even planted some crops together to save money at the store. He loved the feeling he got after a hard days work. Unfortunately, they'd had to sell all but one milk cow and one horse to get through the previous winter. The flock was still a good size, though, and David had had high hopes for their profits this year.

James, on the other hand, began to resent the farm even before their dad had died. He wanted to play sports and hang out with his school friends. He adamantly protested to David at least twice a week that he would never become a legend shoveling sheep dung all day. David privately agreed with him but he never had a desire for notoriety like James did and he had trouble understanding James' desire to escape the farm as soon as he could. He just listened to him complain as they shoveled, allowing James to vent his frustrations onto him instead of their parents.

"You know," James said, interrupting David's thoughts, "you're basically calling me selfish about how I feel about all this but you're the one moping around ruining Mom's wedding day. Or 'courthouse ceremony'. Whatever."

David felt a twinge of guilt at James' words. The last thing he wanted to do make his mom unhappy.

"So, which do you want to be? The pot or the kettle?" James continued.

Before David could answer, Ruth came to sit on the bench on his other side. She looked beautiful in her knee length white dress.

"James," she said gently, "Please go tell Albert we'll be there shortly."

"Sure, Mom."

James, appearing glad to be off David Duty, went down the hall to where Albert stood outside of the courtroom where the wedding ceremony would take place in. After getting the message from James, Albert nodded understanding to Ruth and began talking with his soon to be step son. David looked back down at his hands again, unsure of what to say.

"Sweetheart, what's wrong?" she began softly, reaching to hold his fidgeting hands with one of her own.

"I'm sorry," he replied. He really was. "This just doesn't feel right."

"David, look at me please." He glanced up at her. She looked at him earnestly and continued, "David, I understand that this is hard for you. I know it's a lot, moving from the farm to a strange city. I know that you aren't particularly.. fond.. of Albert but he will take care of us. He will raise you and your brother as his own and provide you with opportunities I could never dream of giving you. He will be good to you."

David sighed, shaking his head. He looked up and said, "It's not that, Mom."

"What do you mean?" Ruth replied.

"I am going to miss our home but.. that's not what's bothering me.." he trailed off, trying to find the right words to say. Ruth waited patiently, squeezing his hand encouragingly. After a few moments, David looked at her and asked, "Do you love him?"

Ruth opened her mouth to speak the automatic answer that came to mind but closed it again. David knew his mom would never lie to him and gave a slight nod in understanding. She glanced away to gather her thoughts before she replied.

"David, your father was my first and only love of my life. My true love. Nothing will ever change that. As for Albert, I do deeply care for him and I hope to one day grow to love him. He feels the same for me. We have a mutual understanding."

David gazed at her for several moments before giving her a small nod. "I just want you to be happy, Mom. I know you want the best for us, but you deserve the best too."

Ruth let out a breathy laugh as her eyes filled with tears. She put an arm around his shoulders and kissed his temple before saying, "You've always had a big heart for others, my boy, but when did you grow up on me?" He looked down and shrugged, slightly embarrassed. She gave him another watery smile before standing and holding out her hand.

"Walk me down the aisle?" she asked.

David gave her a small smile and stood up, offering her his arm.

* * *

 

_Present day_

David made it to the designated meeting place with no time to spare. Forcing any lingering thoughts of Mary Margaret from his mind, he casually sat at a table overlooking the pond that was starting to freeze over. He could see his breath in the cold air and leaned forward, forearms on his knees, allowing the coffee cup to warm his fingers. He took another sip, trying to resist the itch to check his watch for the time. Luckily, the place wasn't as bustling as it usually was as the cold seemed to have driven most people indoors.

"Mind if I sit here?"

David kept his face neutral and looked up at the man who spoke, doing a quick assessment. He was well dressed, although he looked more like someone who should be in a play rather than walking the streets of New Haven. His clothing choices bordered on looking like they were from the wrong century. Not seeing anything obvious that concerned him, David spoke the instructed words he'd been given.

"Mind? The mind is a death trap," he quoted, looking out at the water.

"Yes," the man responded in turn, "We are all dying from overthinking. I'll just sit then." He did so, taking a seat in the chair on the other side of the small table before leaning back. He seemed to be thinking, so David waited patiently.

"What is it specifically you wish to know, Mr. Nolan?" the man asked after a few moments went by.

"You said you had information for me regarding a slew of crimes that you claim are related and that you believe I am looking into. I'm here to listen."

"To get the right answer, you have to ask the right question. I also don't _believe_ anything. I _know_ you are looking. If I didn't, I wouldn't be here."

David mentally rolled his eyes, but kept his expression professionally neutral. "Who are you?"

"That's not the right question but I'll indulge you. Call me Jefferson."

"How did you get your information?" David asked, beginning to wonder at this odd man and his riddles. Jefferson smiled widely, and gave David a sideways glance.

"Magic," he quipped, turning his gaze back to the water. "Still not the right question, though, but I'll give you a hint." He turned to face David, elbows propped on the table. "What do these crimes have in common? What was someone to gain from them?"

David went back, mentally searching the files he had all but memorized by now. Money would be the easier answer. There were dozens of instances of laundering and cover ups of businesses. Even the night clubs, escorts, and gambling rings fell into that category. But no, it had to be more than that. Profit would somewhat explain the lesser crimes, but the ones of the more violent nature must be attached to a different motive.

Unfortunately, there were always people willing to take the fall. David knew these people were just the front line of many standing between the law and their masters that controlled the purse strings. However, the D.A. couldn't just throw out a guilty plea on a hunch. David furrowed his brow at this thought.

"Control," he offered, looking back at Jefferson.

Jefferson nodded, looking amused. "They underestimated you, Mr. Nolan."

"Who's 'they'?"

"They who have control. They who have the power. Power corrupts, Mr. Nolan. It's dangerous in the wrong hands, as you very well know."

"Why do you say that?" David replied, starting to feel on edge.

"I knew your brother James."

David's heart clenched and he had to fight hard to maintain his neutral facial expression. He gazed at Jefferson warily, unsure of how to take this unexpected revelation. It had been some time since David had thought of his twin. He wasn't sure if it was because he was moving on or if it was a way to cope with the guilt that he felt. He knew James had gotten himself too deeply involved with the rougher criminal circles throughout New Haven, but having him mentioned under these circumstances was unnerving.

"Are you saying that you have information about the circumstances surrounding my brother's death?" he managed.

"I'm saying that not everything is as it seems. Keep digging, but be ready for the consequences that come with uncovering the truth. At times, the truth turns out worse than mystery."

David nodded in response to the cryptic advice, head reeling with possibilities. How did this man know James? Did he know what happened, and why? More importantly, who did it? And…

"The ones that you say underestimate me believe I'm investigating something. Where would they get that information?" he asked. Jefferson looked at him and appeared to be weighing his words.

"Rulers of kingdoms have always been at war for power," he began. "They will do anything to obtain it. I advise you to trust no one, Mr. Nolan, if you truly wish to solve your case and effectively loosen the iron grip that organized crime has on this city."

"You're asking me to trust no one, yet you want me take your information as fact," David responded. "What do _you_ have to gain from this?

Jefferson looked at him coolly and said,"I gave you no facts. I merely.. pointed you in the general direction of the truth. I broke no laws nor confidences. As far as my interest in your success.. if you are successful what does it matter, really?"

David could tell there was more under the surface of Jefferson's question, but let it go. He couldn't deny that this man had given him much to process. Jefferson pulled out a pocket watch to check the time. He snapped it shut and said, "I'd best be off. I have other important matters I can't be late for." He stood, putting his hands in his pockets.

"Will you be contacting me again?" David inquired, standing to leave as well.

"Perhaps," replied Jefferson, pulling a deck of cards from one of his pockets. He handed one to David, then said, "My card. If you get another one, you'll know. Same place." At this, Jefferson made a slight bow, turned on his heel, and left. David looked down at the card. It was the Jack of Spades and the pattern on the other side was a white rabbit holding a cane and wearing a top hat. More than once did David question the sanity of his informant, but his gut told him everything Jefferson had said was true.

David started walking south to meet Sean, his mind replaying everything that had just happened. Could James' death really be connected to this case? The part of him that wanted closure dared to hope. He would never forget his mom's screams when she called him to tell him what had happened. They still haunted him in his dreams. David knew he needed to tread carefully. If this information was accurate, it would mean he might be taken off the case due to it being deemed too personal. Still, there was no proof that the cases were connected yet.

He glanced up, surprised to already be at the gas station, and saw the squad car parked on the far side of the building. He finished the distance and opened the door to slide into the passenger seat to an inquiring look from Sean. David took a deep breath, not really knowing where to begin. Sean, sensing something was off with his partner, spoke first.

"So. How'd it go? Anything worthwhile?"

David's brow furrowed as he contemplated his answer. "It was.. interesting," he submitted. He described Jefferson, making sure to note the clothing choices and the cryptic way in which he spoke. Sean raised his eyebrows at David's mention of magic.

"Sounds like he's a little delusional," Sean said.

"You'd think that but everything he said was similar, as if everything he was saying eluded to the truth. Like he was saying it so he wasn't actually telling me what he was trying to get me to figure out," David responded, fiddling with his empty coffee cup. David sighed and pressed his fingertips to the bridge of his nose, feeling a headache coming on. He had left out the part about Jefferson mentioning James, unsure of how his partner would react. Sean knew that James had died, but not in what manner. David wasn't quite ready to get into that yet.

"Well, if you think what he was saying was true, where did he _elude_ we start?" Sean asked.

"According to him, the people behind these crimes know that we're investigating. We need to be careful."

"Would have helped if he offered up some concrete evidence like, I don't know, names?" Sean joked, trying to lighten David's darkened mood. David chuckled and shook his head.

"That would've been too easy. We do know the most important thing, though."

"What's that?" Sean asked, shifting the car into reverse.

"If someone's watching us, it means we're onto something," David replied, turning his gaze to Sean's. "You ready for this?"

Sean smirked and backed the car up to leave. "You know it. Back to office for report?"

"Yeah, we'd better. Lance will want an update."

David's mind was racing, moving the pieces of information in the files he'd memorized around in his head, trying to see how they fit together. Up until today, David had only seen them as square shapes, perhaps able to be connected, perhaps not. Now though, he knew there were links among them, perhaps even several. He pictured puzzle pieces now, some with straight edges and some with multiple ways to connect to the other pieces.

He was replaying the meeting with Jefferson backwards now, trying to see if he could decipher any further information thinking from that perspective. Before he knew it, he had rewound all the way back to the coffee shop to the woman with the beautiful green eyes and raven hair. He saw her coy smile as she exited the coffee shop, and again felt how that smile had stirred something in him that had been absent for some time.

That smile had given him hope, but hope for what? He mentally shook himself, unable to figure out why this woman was able to throw him off his tracks like this. He'd never felt anything like it before and, if he was honest with himself, he didn't mind at all. The problem was, he knew nothing about her except for her name. She must go to the coffee shop frequently, though, if she knew the barista enough to joke about the broken coffee cup. _That's where I'll start then_ , David thought. _I'll find her._

 


	5. Omen

Chapter 5: Omen

David felt more than saw Sean's concern as the latter kept glancing at him out of the corner of his eye as he drove the car towards the station. If Sean knew something was off, he didn't ask, for which David was grateful. He could barely keep up with his warring thoughts as it was, let alone trying to voice them to his partner.

"Your gun's in the glovebox," Sean said as he steered the car into the station parking lot.

"Ah, thanks," David replied distractedly, pulled from his reverie.

He reached into the compartment to grab his weapon sheathed in its holster. They pulled up to the station and parked amongst the other patrol cars in the back of the building before getting out to head inside. David pulled his badge out of his wallet and attached it, along with his gun, back onto their usual places on his belt. They keyed into the back door, already able to hear the hustle and bustle of the now busy station as they entered the hallway. They were greeted by a few officers leaving the building for their squad cars, one of which stopped David on his way out.

"David, can I ask you a favor?" the younger man said, voice lowered.

"Sure, what's going on Phillip?" David asked.

"Well, I was wondering if this was your long weekend off," Phillip inquired.

"Nope, just went to see my mom last week. Do you need coverage?"

"Yeah, it would seriously save me," Phillip said, a look of relief on his face. "It's my girlfriend's birthday on Friday. I was hoping to do something special but my leave request got bumped."

"Hmm," David responded, nodding. Unfortunately, it was still common amongst their department to give leave request priority to tenured officers. That meant that newer officers like Phillip, who never missed a shift otherwise, would rarely get the time off they requested.

"What shift are you scheduled for?" David asked.

"Second," Phillip said hesitantly, looking like he hoped David wouldn't change his mind.

"No problem, I'll cover."

"Thank you so much, I owe you one," Phillip rushed as he went out the door.

David chuckled and turned to see Sean suppressing laughter of his own.

"He's so far gone over his girlfriend I think he woulda burst into tears if you'd said no," Sean said with a smirk.

"You're one to talk," David teased, starting down the hall once more. Sean shrugged, not even attempting to dispute David's argument. He'd been dating Ashley since they were both in high school and had never had any doubts about whom his future would be with. David had helped him out a few times as well, before they became partners and started working together. Both men walked into the large office space and headed toward their desks.

"Nolan! Herman! A word, please," came the unmistakable voice of their sergeant who was standing in the doorway of his office on the other side of the main room. Both men glanced at each other before making their way toward him, unsure of why they got called out the moment they entered the building. Surely, they couldn't have screwed something up just two hours into their shift?

A few of their colleagues sent them taunting looks, barely able to hide their mirth at the pair being called to the office. David was greatly respected by his peers, who saw him as a work horse and leader. If a shift needed covered or switched, David would be the first to volunteer. If back up was needed, David was there. Though newer to the department, Sean was beginning to create a good reputation of his own as well. David rolled his eyes at his coworkers, suppressing a grin, accepting this as a rare moment where they could give him a hard time.

"Good morning, Sergeant Lance," Sean offered respectfully as the former nodded and stepped aside, allowing them to enter his office.

"Sir," David extended with a nod of his own, a little less formally but with no less respect in his greeting. Lance closed the door behind them and motioned for them to sit down in the chairs in front of his desk as he took his own seat. He peered at the two men thoughtfully, eyes kind but expression stern, before speaking.

"May I ask what you two were doing out in the field this early?" he questioned, finally resting his eyes on David.

"Gathering information for the cases you assigned us, sir," David replied easily, returning Lance's gaze. "There was an individual that contacted us willing to volunteer some information."

Lance raised his eyebrows. "An informant? Why was I not privy to this new development?"

"We wanted to make sure that the information provided was credible before we brought it to you. We had planned on starting an evidence grid today. We can present the information once it's finished," David answered. It wasn't entirely untrue. He and Sean did plan on mapping out all of their evidence in the case files. The problem was, they weren't completely sure of what they'd found yet, and Jefferson's warning made David less inclined to forward or save any information on the computer systems.

As if reading his thoughts, Lance responded, "Why not enter it in the system?"

Sean shifted in his seat, looking at David as well.

David leaned forward, elbows on his knees and hands folded. "My informant shouldn't know anything about these cases we're investigating. In fact, he implied the suspects responsible are aware that we are digging as well."

"Are you suggesting that we have a mole?" Lance responded, eyebrows raised.

"I don't know, sir," David replied shaking his head, leaning back in his chair again. "It _is_ concerning to me that at least one other individual outside of this department knows that we're re-opening cold cases. Especially considering the notoriety some of these cases had at the time. My gut is telling me to be as cautious as possible. I think we're onto something."

Sean nodded in agreement, turning his gaze back to Lance. He knew that Sergeant Lance and David were partners before the former's promotion. When he'd first started, Sean had heard grumblings amongst his older peers that questioned why David wasn't promoted first, given his record and reputation. If the slight bothered David at all he certainly didn't show it as he interacted with Lance. David's humility was a quality Sean greatly respected.

Lance looked thoughtful as he pulled out his keys to unlock one of his desk drawers. "I'll give you room seven at the end of the hall. You can set up there and no one will have access to any of your evidence except your team and your superiors," he said, pulling two keys out labeled "R-7" and handing one to each of them. "I'd like an update every couple of days and any new important developments to be brought to me immediately," he continued, looking serious. "Like you said, some of these cases had high notoriety. If you need any more resources, please let me know."

"Yes, sir," Sean replied. David nodded in agreement, standing to leave.

"Nolan, if I can have a moment alone," Lance interjected, looking at him pointedly. Sean glanced quickly between the two men before exiting the office and closing the door again behind him. David sat down again, attentively meeting Lance's gaze.

"David, I get the feeling you're not telling me everything," Lance began, dropping formalities. "You seem.. distracted. And don't tell me you're not," he interjected as David opened his mouth to respond, "I worked with you every day for four years."

David gave a guarded smile at that before replying, "I am a bit distracted, but it's not necessarily to do with the case."

It wasn't a lie. James' death wasn't part of the case at this time and he certainly was not going to discuss how a woman he met once for all but five minutes that morning was almost haunting his thoughts. It sounded ridiculous, even to himself.

"Although," he continued, trying to lighten the mood, "give us credit, this is shaping up to be bigger than I think any one of us could have dreamed. This is movie material." He genuinely smiled at the last statement, one that he and Lance joked about many times on patrol. Lance chuckled and shook his head, leaning back in his chair, still surveying David.

"Don't look so concerned, I'm fine. I just need to process all of the information we have," David assured him.

Not looking totally convinced, Lance nodded. Like Sean, he knew when to push David and when not to. He knew David would voice any concerns pertinent to the case if he had any and, as his supervising officer, that was all that Lance was required to demand of him. "Ok," he relented. "Again, let me know if you need anything else."

"Yes, sir," David nodded, switching the metaphorical formality switch back on. He stood and went to help Sean move all of their files to room seven, pushing away thoughts of his brother and the mysterious Mary Margaret for now.

* * *

 

Mary Margaret parked her truck in the school parking lot and made her way inside, grateful to be out of the cold. She unlocked the door to her classroom and dropped her bag into her chair at the front of the room before removing all of her layers of warm outerwear. She looked forward to a long day of lessons and projects with her fifth graders, an easy distraction from her tumultuous thoughts. Her wish that the unnerving effect of the nightmare she'd had would fade away was granted, only to be replaced by images of the man with the beautiful blue eyes and a charming smile.

For some inexplicable reason, Mary Margaret felt a small smile grace her own lips as she thought of David. Her heart warmed as she remembered his voice and the soft, deep timbre of his laugh. Even if she'd wanted to stop thinking about him she wasn't sure if she could, especially when she thought of the way he'd looked at her when he'd asked if they'd see each other again.

_You are being ridiculous_ , the guarded part of her said. _Stop acting like a childish school girl! Nothing can or will ever happen_!

Mary Margaret sighed and grabbed some chalk to write the day's lessons on the chalk board. No, this wouldn't do. Whatever this morning was, it didn't matter. The sooner she excepted that the better, but her heart still felt heavy even as she tried to convince herself.

"Mary Margaret?" came a voice quite loudly, causing her to jump and drop her chalk.

She turned quickly to see her co worker, Ashley, looking a bit under the weather. Then again, the pregnancy had made her look under the weather for a few months now.

"I'm so sorry!" Ashley said quickly. "I said your name three times. I didn't mean to scare you."

Mary Margaret gave her a kind smile and offered the younger woman a chair. "Oh no, that's alright. I guess I was lost in thought for a bit. Did you need something?"

"No, no. I just wanted to ask how your weekend was. Being sick 24/7 makes me miss adult interaction," Ashley replied with a rueful smile.

Mary Margaret nodded in agreement, picking up the chalk she'd dropped and finishing the last few words on the chalkboard. Besides her students, Mary Margaret did not have contact with many other people aside from her co workers. Ashley was always so sweet, kind, and impossible not to like. If Mary Margaret had friends, Ashley would probably have been considered one of them.

"Mine was ok. You know me, I live such an exciting life," Mary Margaret joked with a smirk, placing the chalk back on the tray and sitting down. She'd perfected this, staying vague enough to not reveal too much yet engaged enough to maintain good rapport. It was a balancing act, some days harder than others.

"I hear ya," Ashley replied. "My fiancé tries, but it's hard to really do anything right now."

"It'll be worth it once you see that little bun," Mary Margaret reassured.

"Yes, I can't wait," Ashley said, grinning. "I mean, yeah, I can wait. At least until baby is ready to come out. But I can't at the same time, I'm just so anxious.. and nervous.. but excited too. Sorry, I'm rambling. Pregnancy brain is a real thing."

Mary Margaret laughed softly, taking the younger woman's hand. "You're just fine. You'll make a wonderful mother," Mary Margaret assured honestly. Ashley smiled, looking on the verge of tears. In an attempt to dissuade this, Mary Margaret smirked and added, "I'll miss your pregnancy brain. It's very entertaining to listen to."

It must have worked, because Ashley chuckled before sheepishly wiping the tears out of her eyes.

Both women were a bit disappointed when the bell rang, signaling the students would be coming to their classrooms shortly. Ashley said goodbye and headed down the hall to her first grade classroom. Mary Margaret always enjoyed their conversations. She felt lucky that Ashley wasn't one to pry too hard. It was nice being able to connect with someone like that again.

After she placed the graded papers on the desks and her students filed in, Mary Margaret forced herself to focus on nothing but work. After all, tomorrow they'd be starting their nature section which, as always, included building bird houses. Come spring, her students would be able to hang their bird houses up outside. They would keep notes on the species of bird that claimed it, whether or not they had a mate, if they had babies, and when the bird family left to fly South together. Of course, school would be out by the time all of this happened, but there were always students greeting her in the Fall, letting her know how their projects went.

Before she knew it, the school day was over and everyone was packing up to head for home. Her students were abuzz with excitement to start the nature section the next day. She'd have to come in early tomorrow to set up the tables with all of the supplies for the bird houses.

"Bye, Ms. Snow!" some called as they left.

She smiled and waved them all off before locking up and heading outside into the cold. For starting off so badly, the day ended pretty well. Now, to just go home and make dinner, take a hot bath, and head to bed early.

After parking her truck, she climbed the stairs to her apartment and let herself in, almost slipping on an envelope that had been shoved under the door. She bit back a curse and bent down to pick it up. There was nothing written on the outside, so she opened it to see who it was from. It was a letter that read:

_Ms. Blanchard,_

_I told you once that there would be a time the past would attempt to revisit us. Now is that time. I expect your presence at my shop this Friday evening at 9:00P.M. Use your usual entrance._

_Regards,_

_G_

Mary Margaret could hear her own ragged breathing in her ears. She backed against the door and slid down to the floor, the letter still clutched in her shaking hand. How was this happening? It had been years! How did he even know where she was? She put her forehead to her knees, trying to will her body to calm itself. Yes, her nightmare this morning had been a poor omen, indeed.


	6. Faith

Chapter 6: Faith

_Ten years earlier_

Mary Margaret wasn't fully convinced that she was still alive. Sure, she was breathing. She ate, albeit rarely. Mostly, she slept. The world continued to move forward even though hers had effectively stopped. It was as if she was torn from this reality, watching herself from a distance as she gradually became lost in a dark abyss that she couldn't pull herself out of. The tears had stopped some weeks before and had been replaced by a numbing emptiness. All she could do was lay in her bed huddled in a tight ball and shut out the world she no longer wanted to be a part of.

Her mother was dead. Her father was dead. She was all alone.

The sun was trying to shine through the curtains, casting a warm glow in Mary Margaret's eyes as they fluttered open. The teenager groaned and rolled onto her other side, burying her face further into her pillow to avoid another beautiful morning trying to lure her out of bed. The door to her bedroom clicked open and Mary Margaret continued to lay huddled under her cocoon of blankets, pretending to be asleep.

"Now Miss, I heard you stirring. You know you can't pull one over on me," the woman chastised softly, setting something down to the bedside table before sitting on the edge of the bed and rubbing small circles on Mary Margaret's back. Mary Margaret sighed softly at the touch, but otherwise didn't respond.

"I've brought you breakfast, Miss," the woman tried again gently, moving her hand to brush the young girl's wild, curly hair from her face and neck.

"Not hungry," came Mary Margaret's muffled reply.

"I know, dear. Please, at least a few bites. Your mother would…"

"Mother's dead, Johanna. What she 'would' doesn't matter anymore," Mary Margaret snapped, turning over to glare at her childhood nanny.

Johanna maintained her calm expression she always wore when Mary Margaret was being ill tempered and silently continued to gently coax the snarls out of the young girl's wild mane. Mary Margaret exhaled and laid her head back on the pillow, allowing Johanna to continue the work on her hair. Nothing in this home, even herself, felt real anymore. Only two weeks after her father's funeral, her step mother was dismissing staff, changing décor, even trying to send Mary Margaret off to boarding school. Although her father had left her a large inheritance, her step mother was in charge of the money until Mary Margaret graduated from college. The woman had only been married to her father for a year, and yet had all the power over every aspect of Mary Margaret's future. She was trapped.

As if sensing Mary Margaret's dark thoughts, Johanna said, "Please eat. For me, if anything."

Mary Margaret felt her heart squeeze.

"Not fair."

"All's fair in love and war," her nanny replied lightly.

"I'm not at war with _you_!" Mary Margaret grumbled, propping herself up on her elbow. She glanced at the food tray but didn't remove the cover.

"Regardless, you'll never win any battles holed up in here Miss," Johanna said, her eyes kind.

Mary Margaret flinched and looked away. Unable to find a way to live her life even semi normally after her father's sudden death, she'd felt pathetic for some time now. Her hope and resilience that had aided her through her mother's passing was gone, replaced by this empty shell of her former self. She felt like a stranger in her own body, unable to stand up for what was right. She was just… existing. The staff that had worked for her family for years was being run off. Charities that her parents had worked so hard to build were being closed before her father had even been buried. Her home was no longer hers.

"I don't know what to do," she whispered, tears filling her eyes for the first time in weeks.

Johanna wrapped her arms around Mary Margaret, running a soothing hand up and down the young girl's back. She was silently relieved at this display of emotion from her young miss, hoping that this was the beginning of true healing for Mary Margaret's damaged heart.

"You don't always have to have the right answers, dear. Live each day at a time."

"Live," Mary Margaret echoed, blinking back tears as she pulled back to look at Johanna. "Live. Don't just exist."

Johanna nodded tearfully, cupping Mary Margaret's face in her hands as she kissed the young girl's forehead. "Yes. Live and have faith. One day at a time."

Johanna released Mary Margaret's face as she reached over and pulled the cover off of the breakfast tray. Mary Margaret gave her nanny's other hand a squeeze before grabbing a piece of peanut butter toast and dipping it in her cinnamon hot chocolate.

* * *

 

_Present day_

Mary Margaret awoke early the next day with the letter immediately at the forefront of her mind. She'd barely slept, her mind racing with possibilities. A big part of her wished it was already Friday so she could get her answers. The smaller part of her was petrified at the thought of what those answers might be. How did he find her? Did he know where she was this whole time? What did he mean by "the past revisiting them"? Did she know where she was? If Mary Margaret wanted any memories to be buried, it was the ones of her.

Mary Margaret shivered, unsure if the cause was her train of thought or the chill in the air as she made her way to her truck with the boxes of bird house supplies. The cold wind bit through her layers of clothing and she hoped the weather would improve once the sun came up. She'd almost called in sick today, the combination of shock and lack of sleep making her feel sick anyways. However, she knew that nothing could occupy her mind quite like her rambunctious fifth graders working on their bird house projects. No, calling in wouldn't help anything. All she would do is sit around fretting anyways.

Two trips and no dropped boxes later, she closed the back hatch of her truck and shuffled to the driver's side, happy that her truck's heater never took too long to warm up. She wished it would snow already. At least there would be an excuse for this miserable weather. Besides, snow always had a calming effect on her. Turning her car in the direction of the coffee shop, she did her best to focus on the weather report instead of her own thoughts.

_"Sorry to report that this cold front will be around for a while due to a low pressure system coming from…"_

"Great," she mumbled, sorry she'd even turned the radio on.

_"…predicted that New Haven and the surrounding areas will experience more sleet and mixed rain than snow in the coming weeks. Better stock up on the ice melt, folks!"_

"Alright, enough out of you," she responded, shutting the radio off with annoyance.

She reached the coffee shop and hurried inside to get out of the wind. The warm glow of the shop was a welcome contrast to the cold gale outside.

"Mary Margaret?"

She looked up and gave August a tired smile. "Hey August. Same as yesterday please."

The barista arched his eyebrow, but set about making her drink without question. He seemed to sense something was off but didn't comment, for which Mary Margaret was grateful. She was sure it was strange for his Thursday and Friday regular to come the first two days of the work week, let alone order a double shot both days. After all, she was a creature of very strict habit. She was hoping she didn't look as tired and run down as she felt. Though, judging by the way he was glancing at her out of the corner of his eye, she probably did.

"Here ya go," he said, placing a new bluebird cup in front of her and meeting her eyes, giving her an "are you ok?" look.

Mary Margaret gave him as convincing a smile as she could and took her cup. "Thanks, August. This is truly the only thing that'll keep me awake today."

"Glad to be of help," he responded, though clearly not convinced.

She managed another half smile and made her way over to the chair and table she was sitting at when she'd run into David yesterday. Goodness, was that only yesterday? It seemed like weeks ago. Well, the likelihood of running not so gracefully into the handsome stranger again was probably much less today. Like getting struck by lightning or winning the lottery. The guarded half of her was relieved, knowing that it was for the best but the other half felt like a deflated balloon. After all, she'd never seen him here before and she'd been coming here for years. Years. How long it'd been since she'd last seen the man who'd left her the letter. She shook her head, stopping those thoughts in their tracks. There would be time to process all of that later.

Pulling out _Pride and Prejudice_ from her bag, she glanced up at the clock to check the time. 6:15A.M. Plenty of time to dig into one of her favorite literary classics before leaving for work. She sipped her coffee, engrossing herself in the world of her book, tension momentarily abated. The bell on the shop door tinkled merrily as patrons went in and out, but Mary Margaret was too engrossed in Elizabeth Bennet's present troubles to really take notice. As such, she didn't notice the man, whose presence yesterday had haunted her thoughts, enter the coffee shop. She didn't hear the short intake of his breath when he saw that she was sitting there, didn't see the small smile that graced his features as he turned to order his coffee. Nor did she see him observing her as he waited for his drink to be made, or the deep breath he took before walking towards her.

"Mary Margaret?" he asked (though, of course, he knew it was her).

Recognizing his voice at once, she startled in surprise and bumped her coffee cup that she'd precariously placed on the arm of her chair. She grabbed for it, trying to keep the half-full beverage upright. David had reached for it too, which resulted in his hand brushing hers as they both righted the cup. Her breath caught at his touch, and she sincerely hoped she wasn't blushing as she met his gaze. His eyes widened and he quickly removed his hand from hers, looking at her intently as if worried about her reaction to his sudden proximity. Suprise was evident on his face, though, so she had no doubt of the innocence of his actions.

"I'm so sorry. Did any of it spill? I can grab some napkins.." he started, turning towards the counter.

"No, no. It's fine. I just wasn't prepared for..." she trailed off, unsure of how to end that sentence without sounding completely ridiculous. Go for levity.

"We need to stop meeting like this," she teased, closing her book and trying to look at least halfway put together despite the sudden flutter in her stomach the moment she'd looked into his blue eyes.

"Indeed," he quipped, his charming smile returning at the humor in her tone. "You might want to start getting the to-go cups just in case."

"Does David Nolan intend on running into me again?" she bantered, smiling widely.

His eyes lit up and he grinned back at her. She supposed it was because she'd remembered his name.

"Maybe," he replied lowly, quoting her from the day before and sending a shiver down her spine. _Oh no...what am I doing?_

They both stared at each other for a moment. It could stay at harmless flirting. One of them could leave, no harm no foul. However, if the look in David's eyes was any indication, he intended to stay if he was welcome. Mary Margaret swallowed hard, unable to look away and very much unable to leave at this point. She had absolutely no idea what she was doing but couldn't stop herself from taking a leap of faith anyways. For the first time in what seemed like forever, Mary Margaret took a chance.

"Do you uh.. want to sit down?" she asked a bit shakily as she canted her head towards the empty armchair on the other side of the little table.

* * *

 

David knew he was probably, once again, grinning like an idiot and, once again, he couldn't bring himself to care. Not only had Mary Margaret been at the coffee shop this morning when he'd arrived, but she'd remembered his name. Besides the fact he'd scared her half to death and almost made her spill her coffee everywhere, the morning had turned out better than he could have hoped. Not to mention how it had felt when his hand touched hers. He waited patiently, hoping he hadn't pushed the beautiful, guarded woman too far.

"Do you uh.. want to sit down?" she asked, indicating a second chair on the other side of the small table next to her. He could tell she was nervous as she looked up at him adorably through her dark eyelashes in that way that made his pulse quicken. _Get a grip, David._

"I'd like that," he responded, hoping he didn't sound too eager. Any insecurities he may have had evaporated when Mary Margaret's shoulders relaxed a bit and she smiled again, green eyes sparkling. He sat down in the empty chair, removing the scarf he'd gotten from Mabel, trying to think of what to say next. He wasn't really good at this sort of thing but, guessing by her expression, she seemed just as unsure as he was. _Here goes nothing..._

"Come here often?" It seemed like a safe enough question.

Mary Margaret observed him for a moment but must have agreed as she responded, "Yeah, usually a couple of times a week. How about you?"

"Yesterday was my first time coming here."

"And you liked it so much you came two days in a row?" she questioned, a smirk playing on her lips. _Oh no..._

"Something like that.." he responded, holding her gaze. Her smile faltered a bit as she caught his meaning and she glanced around the coffee shop, a light blush covering her cheeks. David waited with bated breath, hoping she wouldn't shut down and retreat behind her walls again.

"I'll have to tell August he deserves a raise," she replied after a moment, tilting her head at the barista working behind the counter before returning her eyes to David's. She smiled warmly at him then, and he knew he was done for. She was truly the most beautiful woman he'd ever seen. Without her winter hat she'd been wearing yesterday, he could see that her short raven colored hair was a stark contrast to her pale skin. Her smile lit up her face, her cheeks still tinged with pink, and David was absolutely smitten.

"Please do," he countered, trying to remember how to breathe.

The bruise on her cheek that he'd noticed yesterday was still there, as well as circles under her eyes indicating she hadn't slept well. He silently wished he could ask her about them and make sure she was alright. But no, that wasn't his place.

The bell on the door of the coffee shop was ringing almost continually now as the morning rush came in. Mary Margaret looked over at the clock on the wall and pursed her lips, then looked back at David apologetically.

"Sorry, I've got to head out. I have a lot to do before school starts," she said, standing to put on her layers of winter outerwear. Between her book and talking with David, she'd completely lost track of time.

"School?" he questioned, standing as well.

"Oh, I'm a teacher," she responded, buttoning up her pea coat and putting on her hat and gloves. "We're starting a special project in class today. I can't be late for my own show."

David chuckled. "No, we wouldn't want that."

She shouldered her bag and turned toward him once more, biting lightly on her lower lip.

"Well, it was nice seeing you again," she said shyly, moving toward the door, though not nearly as quickly as yesterday. David took that as an accomplishment.

"You too. Hopefully next time there won't be any coffee casualties," he joked, hoping to see her smile again before she left. His wish was granted.

"Yes, hopefully," she laughed, allowing him to move in front of her to open the door. They stepped back out into the crisp air, the noise of New Haven traffic in full swing filling their ears. David started going left, Mary Margaret right, each catching each other's eye and stopping when they realized they'd be walking separate ways.

"Well, goodbye Mary Margaret," David said with a slight bow and boyish grin.

"Goodbye David Nolan," Mary Margaret returned with a bow of her own and that signature coy smile of hers. David chuckled softly.

"David. Just David."

Her breathing hitched and she looked at him like she'd never seen anything like him before. Her gaze was so tender, he had to stop himself from reaching out and touching her cheek. He wanted desperately to know what she was thinking, but didn't want to push her behind her walls again. Keeping his hands in his pockets to keep himself from doing anything stupid, he smiled gently back at her instead. For now, it would have to be enough.

"David," she said softly, green eyes meeting his. "S..See you around?"

_Always. Forever. Whenever you want._

"Definitely," he promised, voice a bit husky even to his own ears.

Mary Margaret smiled again at that, arching her eyebrow as she turned in the direction of her car. "Good."


	7. Start

Chapter 7: Start

_Ten years earlier_

"David _stop_!" James yelled, trying to pull him off of their step father.

David's forearm was on the older man's chest, forcing him up against the wall of the dining parlor. David used his free arm to shake his brother off, his eyes never leaving Albert's. His step father smirked, cold eyes unflinching at David's outburst.

"If you _ever_ touch her again.." David warned, blue eyes flashing.

"You'll what, boy?" Albert sneered as he brought his face closer to David's. "Careful, now. You may be acting like a child but in the eyes of the law you are a grown man. Do.. not.. test.. me."

David clenched his jaw, closing his free hand into a fist. He knew Albert was right and that nothing would have given the old man more pleasure than to call the police and have David arrested. His step father's position as DA meant that he had his hands in much of the city's inner workings, including law enforcement ranks. If it was David's word against Albert's, David would lose. That would help no one, least of all his mom. David shoved off of Albert, taking a step back from him. James took this opportunity to force his twin further away from their step father, standing between the two as David continued to glare daggers at Albert.

"Smart boy," Albert jeered, straightening his collar.

"Father," James hissed, casting him a warning look. David looked about ready to launch himself at Albert again at any moment. Hearing his twin, David looked at James incredulously before shoving him away. James backed away a couple of paces, gazing at David warily.

"How can you still call him that after what he did?" David asked in disbelief.

"We don't know the whole story," James replied evenly.

"The hell we don't!" David spat. "Our mom has a black eye because _this_ ," he gestured to Albert, "arrogant asshole got too drunk to handle himself again."

"David Nolan!" came a high pitched voice that automatically sobered David's tumultuous thoughts. All three men turned as Ruth entered the parlor and her eyes took in the scene before her. Even at eighteen years old, his mom's reproachful glare made David avoid her gaze. He could practically feel Albert's smug smile burning into his back.

All three men stood silent, unsure of what to say. David looked up at his mother, anger renewed when we saw the vivid purple bruise surrounding her right eye.

"David..." his mother began softly.

"That boy needs to keep himself under control," Albert interrupted, steely gaze on David. "He'll end up in a bad way indeed if he continues this way."

James stepped between the two other men once more, looking uncomfortable. David could see his twin was unnerved by their mom's appearance and wasn't sure why he was the only son upset by what happened. Then again, James was their step father's favorite. Albert filled the role of father for James whereas David had never really seen eye to eye with him. He'd only tried to be amicable this long for his mom's sake.

Tensions had been especially high lately due to the twins graduating high school. Albert wanted them to go to law school, follow in his footsteps. To David, that plan felt like selling his soul. Especially with the incidents that had happened between Albert and Ruth. This wasn't the first black eye she'd had and the thought of other injuries that may have been hidden from him made David feel physically sick.

"Albert, I'll handle this," Ruth replied shortly, leaving no room for debate. Her husband sniffed and, shaking his head, exited the parlor towards the bedrooms upstairs. James stood uncertainly, looking both confused and apologetic.

"James, could you leave us for a bit? I'll come talk with you as soon as I'm done with your brother," she said reassuringly. James nodded, glancing at David before striding out of the room. David stood in silence, looking anywhere except at Ruth. He was torn between anger and shame as he waited for her to speak.

"Son-" she started.

"Mom, please don't even think about making excuses for Albert. He doesn't deserve them and you know it," he interrupted. His mom looked slightly shocked, brown eyes wide as she gazed at him, but tilted her head signaling he could go on. He took a deep breath.

"Why haven't you left him, Mom? You're miserable, I can see it."

"David-"

"He _hurt_ you," he rasped, unable to keep his emotion out of his voice as he felt tears sting his eyes. Ruth exhaled, eyes filling with tears of her own, and slowly approached her son to draw him into a hug. David marveled at how small his mother felt to him now, but her hugs were still just as comforting to him as when he'd been a small boy. They remained that way for a few minutes before either of them could speak again. Ruth stepped back, crossing her arms over her middle.

"We could go back to the farm," David suggested hopefully.

Ruth shook her head sadly. "I can't leave James."

"Make him come with us."

His mother took a shaky breath. "You're both adults now, son. He won't come with us, you know that. I need to stay for him, make sure he doesn't.. lose himself in all of this." She wasn't meeting his eyes, looking like she was seeing something far away.

"What are you talking about?" David asked softly, brow furrowed.

Ruth looked at him sadly, but shook her head. David exhaled, not liking the feeling of being in the dark very much. Especially when it came to the two people he cared about most in this world. He knew his mother had intended good things when she'd married Albert and things were fine, even good, for a couple of years. At that point, David began to tire of the pomp and circumstance Albert required, as well as the control he demanded from his family. James was easier to please and, while he loved their mom, his loyalties lay with their step father. David didn't understand it, but there was nothing he could do to change his brother's mind for him. He could only hope to plant the seeds of reason and hope they grew one day.

"Mom, you can't change Albert. He is what he is and he's made that clear. I can't do this anymore. I can't live under his iron fist, watching how he treats you. Every time I even _think_ about it.." he paused, gritting his teeth against the anger he felt welling back up again. He took a deep breath and continued. "It's not right. The fact that you feel you need to stay for your grown son's sake says a lot about his character."

Ruth opened her mouth to speak but David kept going, knowing he'd probably never have another opportunity to say these things if he didn't do it now.

"Come with me. We can be free, we can leave all this. We can go home. And I promise, I'll do everything I can to make James see reason."

Ruth's lips lifted into a watery smile as she cupped David's face in her hands.

"Oh, my boy. We both know your brother is as stubborn as you."

David couldn't disagree with that. It was pretty much the only thing they had in common, besides their looks.

"I'm not leaving," she said softly, "but I want _you_ to."

David opened his mouth to argue but it was Ruth's turn to interrupt.

"I want you to live, David. Live the life you want. You don't want this big house. You don't want to go to law school. You were meant for more than just taking orders from someone who doesn't see you for you."

"Mom-" he started, shaking his head.

"All I've wanted for both of you is for you to find happiness. James has found his, now I want you to find yours." She took a deep breath, bringing her hands down to squeeze his shoulders. "We both know you won't find it here."

Again, David couldn't disagree with her. He could only stand there staring, words failing him.

"I'll be fine," she insisted. "You don't always need to be a knight in shining armor, my boy."

David let out a humorless laugh. "Good job I've done" he replied regretfully, eyes glancing at Ruth's bruised eye. "Imagine what it will be like if I leave."

Ruth knew she needed to choose her words carefully. Most of the arguments with Albert had to do with David. Albert wanted to force David into being something he wasn't and Ruth would not back down when it came to either of her children's happiness. She knew James had benefited most from her marriage to Albert, gaining a father figure he so desperately craved. James was calculated and intelligent. While he had many leadership qualities, he needed guidance to feel comfortable in that position. Albert was grooming him for the courtroom, and James was perfectly suited to the lifestyle they currently lived in. David felt deeply and would do anything to help anyone. He was a leader through his actions, a man of honor even at this young age.

"Always trying to do what is right," she sighed, lowering her hands from his shoulders and giving him a wry smile. "What you boys both forget is that you didn't inherit your stubbornness from your dad."

"Mom-"

"I want you to find a place of your own. It can be in the city. The farm if you so choose. But I want it to be yours. I've seen you sneak up those college letters you don't think I know about to your bedroom. I hope you have an idea of where you'd like to go."

David felt a kid who got caught stealing a cookie from the cookie jar.

Ruth laughed at his expression. "Don't look so guilty, I'd rather you be sneaking college letters than girls, like your brother."

David groaned and rolled his eyes, the unwelcome memory of accidentally walking in on James and Kathryn Aureus having a makeout session in the shower coming back to haunt him. He'd kept quiet about it at James' plea, but their mom always tended to know everything that went on regardless.

While the thought of freedom lured him, David's loyalty to his mother was screaming against the idea of leaving. He brought his gaze back to hers, inner turmoil plain in his expression. Ruth smiled in understanding, knowing she almost had him convinced. She tilted her head towards the living room as she started walking.

"Come, I have a few apartment ads to show you. If you insist on staying here in New Haven, I found a little one bedroom you might like..."

* * *

 

_Present day_

David pulled into the parking lot of the station like he did every morning except, today, he felt like everything was different. His smile hadn't left his face since he'd left the coffee shop. They'd only just met but he felt such a strong connection with Mary Margaret it almost scared him, like he was magnetically drawn to her. She was witty, smart, head strong, and beautiful. There was also a broken part of her, hidden behind those walls she'd built, that he desperately wanted to help repair. He hoped she'd one day trust him enough to let him in, but knew that it would take time. The long dormant, hopeful romantic in him declared that it would wait forever if it had to.

David felt silly in a way, becoming so smitten this soon. It didn't make any logical sense. David had dated a few girls here and there but this was different. It felt so...right. The best part about it was, she seemed just as perplexed and interested in him as he was her. The look she'd given him when he told her to call him David was one of guarded longing and just the possibility of her feeling that for him turned his stomach to knots. If he was honest with himself, though, his favorite look of hers was her coy smile when she bantered with him. The picture of it was burned into his memory, and he had to focus on heading in to work to keep his own longings in check.

He strode through the station doors, glancing at the clock to see how late he was. 8:15A.M. Not too bad, considering. He skipped checking his e-mail and headed straight down the hall to R-7, hoping he hadn't kept Sean waiting too long. He reached the door and keyed himself in, seeing his partner rifling through some boxes of case files.

"What're those?" he asked his partner, not recognizing them. He closed the door behind him.

Sean looked up at the sound of his voice, eyebrows raised. "More case files Lance wants to add to our pile. Why were you late?"

"More?" David asked, ignoring the question. He wasn't sure he wanted to disclose where he was, but didn't want to lie either.

Sean stared at him a moment before continuing. "Yeah I guess Lieutenant King told him to add these in case we could figure out any patterns. Basically, they're the entire cold case file room."

"Lucky us," David replied dryly, shuffling through a few of the new files. He was hoping against hope his brother's file wasn't in there. He cleared his throat, careful not to show any emotion on his face. "Lance say anything?"

Sean shook his head. "Not really, just "don't want any stone unturned", that sort of thing."

David let out a breath, shaking his head. He just got in and felt years behind already, not to mention a bit on edge. A few weeks ago Lieutenant King had been against Sargeant Lance assigning them to cold cases. Now he was throwing more at them? It seemed odd.

"You still haven't told me why you were late," Sean prodded, watching his partner closely.

"I was late yesterday," David pointed out, avoiding eye contact by opening a file to look at it.

"That was a few minutes. You're never this late. Ever. Look," Sean continued, concern lacing his voice, "you don't have to tell me details. Just let me know you're ok. You've been acting off since yesterday. Distracted, quiet.. it's weird."

David chuckled at Sean's wording as he tossed the file he was holding back into the box before meeting the younger man's gaze.

"I'm fine," David insisted truthfully.

Sean raised his eyebrows at him as if to say "But?"

David exhaled, rolling his eyes. Why not? If anyone would understand...

"I uh.. might have met someone yesterday," he began, definitely not meeting Sean's eye now.

Whatever Sean was expecting, it clearly wasn't that. He looked at David blankly for a minute, opening his mouth once and then quickly closing it again.

"Gee, don't look so shocked," David joked, lifting the box of files closest to him off of the table to the floor.

"No, I just.." Sean began, watching David begin to assemble the stand for their evidence grid. "I was just expecting something more.. serious I guess. I mean, not that that wouldn't be serious but-"

"Sorry to disappoint," David quipped. It didn't feel as awkward to admit it as he thought it would. In fact, he almost felt like a small weight had been lifted from his shoulders. It felt like he could finally admit that what was happening was real.

Sean observed his partner, unsure of what to make of this new bit of information. David wasn't one to disclose much personal information which was partly why Sean hadn't been expecting it.

"So, where'd you meet?" Sean asked, sensing David needed help sorting through whatever was going on with this mystery person. He wouldn't have been thrown off so much, otherwise.

David stilled a moment, as if debating whether or not to keep the conversation going, before answering, "Remember that coffee shop yesterday?"

Sean nodded, grabbing another other box of old files from the table and setting it down on the floor by the first.

"I literally ran into her right inside the door."

"Oh, seriously?" Sean asked, trying not to laugh but failing.

"Ha, yeah. Not my best moment," David responded, a small smile on his face. He could picture it like it was yesterday. Wait, it was yesterday. It seemed much longer...

"She was.. great about it though," David continued, finishing up the stand and moving to place the board on it. "She has a good sense of humor."

"So, what happened, you just bowled her over then asked her on a date?" Sean joked, knowing that wouldn't have been David's style. The way his partner looked when he talked about this mystery woman made Sean think David was already a goner.

"Yep, pretty much," David replied sarcastically. He looked up and saw Sean staring at him expectantly. He rolled his eyes again before continuing, "Nothing really could happen because I had leave to meet our informant."

Sean nodded in understanding before asking, "But you saw her this morning?"

"Yeah. I wasn't sure if she'd be there, but she was." He still couldn't believe his luck.

"So, what happened?"

"Anyone ever talk to you about curiosity and a cat?"

"Once, but I didn't pay attention. Don't change the subject."

"You're ridiculous."

"And you're already so far gone over this woman you can't see straight."

David laughed, and Sean looked triumphant when his partner didn't deny his accusation.

"So what are you, the pot or the kettle?" David asked.

"I'm not partial," Sean quipped with a shrug.

David chuckled and shook his head as he finished the stand before turning to grab more files. They continued moving boxes in silence for a few minutes, David appreciating that his partner was giving him the option of continuing the conversation or not. He'd never been one to discuss his personal life with anyone, and that had decreased even more so since James' death. David trusted his partner, though, and Sean seemed to understand where he was coming from with this.

"She's guarded. I'm surprised she even talked to me at all really," David admitted. "She made it seem like she wouldn't mind meeting up again at the coffee shop, though," he added, replaying Mary Margaret's expressions in his mind.

"David," she said softly, making is heart feel like it was beating out of his chest. "S..See you around?"

She'd looked so hopeful, yet frightened of what his response might be.

"Well, that's a start," Sean replied, pulling him out of his reverie.

"Yeah," David nodded, clearing the last box off of the table. "Yeah, I guess it is."


	8. Deal

Chapter 8: Deal

_Ten years earlier_

Mary Margaret stood before her step mother, shaking from head to toe.

"How could you?" she asked through gritted teeth, holding back tears that threatened to spill over.

The older woman sat in her father's desk chair, gazing unblinkingly back at her. She was dressed in her usual dark colored pant suit, dark hair framing her face. She would look beautiful, save for the look of loathing she was currently casting at her step daughter.

"This is my household. I choose which staff may stay and which may go," she replied. Although she didn't raise her voice, her tone was authoritative and threatened Mary Margaret's resolve.

She gulped and took a shaky breath before rejoining. "Why Johanna? She has been my nanny since I was born. Why? She was a good worker, always on time, always caring-"

"I have no use for nannies," her step mother interrupted, eyes glinting.

"But.. but.." Mary Margaret sputtered, unable to keep her tears at bay any longer in her anger. "You've let everyone go. For no reason, you just.. got rid of any memory I have left of my parents. Why would you _do_ this?"

"Because I can, dear," came the simple reply as her step mother grinned, although it didn't reach her eyes. "You'd do best to remember, _child_ , that I hold everything in my hand now. Until you finish your schooling, you have no freedom, no choices. It's all mine."

Mary Margaret stood, breath ragged and mouth agape. This wasn't happening.

She'd never felt so broken, so alone as in this moment. Everything she'd ever cared about was gone. She couldn't trust anyone. Her step mother had run off or fired all of the staff, hiring her own henchmen. Mary Margaret couldn't turn a corner without one of them leering at her, watching her every move. It made her feel on edge, like she was being followed.

Law enforcement had been by the week before, informing them of the irregularities of her father's toxicology reports from his autopsy. Mary Margaret still felt sick thinking of someone purposefully harming her father. The case was "still under investigation" and they told her they had no leads yet. Her step mother hadn't asked many questions, just nodded and thanked them for all that they were doing. Things in the house had turned from bad to worse from that moment on.

Her step mother had locked her in her room, had even struck her when she'd objected to it. Mary Margaret had been raised to feel empathy, not hate. To be kind and compassionate, not bitter and threatening. But this woman, who'd somehow weaseled her way into her mother's place, was the epitome of evil. Mary Margaret had an inkling that her step mother knew more about her father's death than she was letting on. She glared at the older woman, anger and hurt and everything in between finally pushing her to the breaking point.

"I won't let you do this," she blurted, hoping her voice didn't waver.

Her step mother went still, pen still hovering over the document she'd been writing. "You have no say in anything anymore, Mary Margaret. If you don't like the way I do things," she set her pen down, a smirk on her face, "you can leave. You can see how the real world will treat a sniveling, spoiled brat like you. Just remember," she rose from her seat, hands splayed on the desk like a tiger ready to pounce, "if you leave, you forfiet any inheritance your father left you. You'll have nothing. Is that what you really want?"

"It's better than being in this house one moment longer," Mary Margaret spat through gritted teeth. "You're nothing more than an evil _witch_."

Her step mother smiled as she resumed her seat. In fact, it almost looked triumphant. "Very well then. I'll ask Claude to help you carry your bags outside after you've packed. I want you out by tonight."

Mary Margaret's jaw was set and she could feel her pulse pound. She was leaving and there was nothing for it now. Where to she didn't know, and she should have been petrified at that prospect, but anywhere was better than here. There was just one thing that she wanted to know...

"Did you kill father?" she asked evenly, as if asking about the weather.

Her step mother's pen halted again, but she didn't look up from the desk as she answered, "Now, why would I do a thing like that?"

"Because you're the type of person to do whatever it takes to get what you want. Even if it's unattainable, no matter what you do. It won't be good enough, Cora."

Cora looked up then, and Mary Margaret was please to see she'd cracked her step mother's mask like expression. A flit of anger and worry could be seen crossing the older woman's face. She stood again, gaze so murderous that Mary Margaret took a slight step backwards from the force of it.

"If you believe me capable of such evil, perhaps you should tread more carefully," Cora seethed. "We wouldn't want the precious princess to meet a painful end, would we?" Cora asked. Mary Margaret gulped, bravery gone, as she backed further towards the door.

"Get. Out." Cora hissed, and Mary Margaret turned and ran.

II

Mary Margaret walked quickly down the dimly lit street, her large duffle bag over her shoulder. She could see her breath in the air and felt the cold wind cut through her clothing. Of all of the imaginings she'd had of escaping her step mother, she'd never planned on anything like this. It had been nearly three weeks since she'd left her home to escape Cora's tyranny. Cold, lonely, awful days. She was still alive, though, so that was a start. Freezing, hungry, and exhausted, but alive nonetheless. Thinking back on her last conversation with Johanna, Mary Margaret inwardly laughed sardonically at the irony of her predicament. She was sure her nanny didn't have this in mind when she'd told her to "live her life".

Trying to keep her breathing even and not go into a panic, she tried to form a plan. Finding a warm place to sleep would be first priority. If she couldn't do that then she'd be in pretty dire straights, indeed. She'd left her cell phone on her nightstand back at the house, wanting to sever all ties and possibilities of anyone tracking her. She _was_ technically a runaway, after all. Unfortunately, that meant she had no way of contacting anyone. Not that she really had anyone in mind anyways. The house staff were gone and she didn't have any close friends.

The crunch of footsteps behind her made her halt and whirl around in alarm. She'd gotten too lost in thought and wasn't paying attention to her surroundings. Not seeing anyone, she slowly turned back in her original direction, shoulders hunched against the weight of her bag. She checked her watch, inwardly groaning at 1:07A.M. looking back at her. No wonder she felt dead on her feet.

A prickling on the back of her neck made her look over her shoulder again. Quickening her step, she all but ran towards the next street ahead. She felt someone following her, even if she couldn't see them. Reaching the intersection with its welcoming streetlights, Mary Margaret froze, listening for anyone that could be behind her. Nothing. All she could hear was the buzzing of the street lamp nearest her. Taking a deep breath, she looked around for a place to sleep for the evening.

The large truck stop just off the interstate had shower stalls she'd used a couple of times, but they didn't allow loitering in the evenings if you weren't planning on buying anything. She'd thought about going to a shelter, but didn't want to risk being seen by the police if they were looking for her. Cora wouldn't care where she was, but if any of the old staff or her teachers at school asked too many questions someone might come looking for her. No, she'd have to lay low for a while until she could find a safe place to go.

Shifting her bag to her other arm, Mary Margaret spotted a promising spot in a small alcove off the alleyway. There was a small brick archway that led to the door of a shop that had a "Closed" sign visible on the front of it. The lights inside were out.

 _Perfect_.

She pulled a relatively clean piece of cardboard out of the nearby dumpster and put it on the ground to lay on. She'd warily watched other transients do this during her first couple of nights alone, unsure about the method. However, beggars can't be choosers and Mary Margaret quickly adopted the habit over laying directly on the freezing cement. Pulling her thick blanket out, she curled up underneath it, using her duffel bag as a pillow. Despite the chill, the annoying buzzing of the street lamp, and the occasional blare of car horns, Mary Margaret started to drift off to sleep, exhaustion overtaking her.

She didn't know how long she'd been dozing before she woke with a start at the feeling of something touching her. Jumping back, using the wall behind her to help her scramble to her feet, she stared wild eyed at the man who must have prodded her awake. She couldn't see his face very well due to the lights in the shop throwing his features into shadow, but it was clear he wasn't a large man. Unsure of what to do, Mary Margaret stood frozen between the desire to run and the need to gather her belongings before she did.

"Sorry, didn't mean to startle you. But you _were_ sleeping in the doorway of my shop," came a smooth voice with an accent she couldn't quite place. Irish? Scottish?

"S-sorry," she stammered, looking at her feet, not sure if it was the cold or her nerves causing her to tremble. She must look like a pathetic idiot right now.

"No need to be sorry dear but I'll have to ask you to leave the doorstep," the man said matter-of-factly, leaning on the cane he carried as he continued to observe her. Mary Margaret looked up, still unable to make out his features, and felt like she was being x-rayed. There was something about this man that was off but she couldn't quite place it.

"Alr-alright, I-I'm going," she managed, shivering against the cold in spite of herself. She bent down to pick up her blanket and shoved it back in her bag.

"Are you hungry?" he asked. That stopped her in her tracks. "I have leftovers inside if you want them."

Mary Margaret stared at him, fighting her inner self about how to best handle this situation. On the one hand, this was a complete stranger inviting her into his shop in the middle of the night. Who knew what this guy what thinking or if he was trustworthy. On the other, the moment he'd mentioned food her stomach lurched with hunger. It'd been a week since she'd had a real meal at a church a few miles away.

As if sensing her hesitation, the man raised his hands non threatenly and said, "I mean you no harm, dearie. I'll want nothing more from you than a 'thank you'."

The stranger opened the door of the shop wider, gesturing for her to enter if she so chose. The warm air wafted out of the door, beckoning her inside. She was able to see him in the light now and, while he looked at her with great interest, she didn't get the feeling he meant her harm. After a moment's more hesitation, she grabbed her bag and stepped carefully around the man and through the doorway. The warm light of the shop cheered her mood quite a bit and she rubbed her hands together, fingers tingling as they warmed up.

"What is this place?" she asked curiously, glancing over the many trinkets in the glass cases.

"A pawn shop," the man responded as he shut the door behind him. Mary Margaret watched him closely, but he didn't lock it. She saw that he walked with a limp, filing that information away just in case she'd need it for later. He beckoned for her to follow him, leading her into a back room and pointing out a chair she could sit in.

III

Mary Margaret was sure she looked like an absolute pig right now stuffing her face in front of this complete stranger, but she was too hungry to care. The spoon in her hand only stopped long enough for her to drink the hot tea he'd brought her. It burned her mouth and throat, but it was warm and she couldn't help but gulp it down. The pawn shop owner gazed at her as she ate his leftover stew, but it wasn't an uncomfortable feeling. He looked to be thinking pretty hard about something. She scraped the bottom of the bowl, savering every last bite.

"Thanks, you have no idea how good this tastes," she said, placing the spoon in the now empty bowl.

"My pleasure, Miss..." He looked at her expectantly.

She stiffened slightly, unsure of how to respond. She wasn't one to lie, but she had no idea who this man was. Mary Margaret searched her mind, trying to come up with a name that would suffice.

"Call me... Snow," she settled. Judging from his reaction, he could see right through her, but the name wasn't a complete lie. Her mother used to call her Snow. Before she'd gotten sick and died; before Mary Margaret's world went to Hell.

The man smiled an almost knowing smile, and nodded, "Snow. Very fitting. How'd you end up here?"

_What does he mean by "fitting"?_

"Listen Mr..."

"Gold."

"Mr. Gold. I appreciate the food and all but I'm not looking to spill my story here."

Again he nodded, a knowing smile on his face. "I understand."

She looked around awkwardly, avoiding his knowing gaze, then got up to start shrugging her warm layers back on. "Thanks again. I won't keep you any longer. Sorry about-"

"I'm prepared to offer you a deal, Miss _Snow_." Mary Margaret gulped at the way he enunciated her fake name. "You won't survive this winter if you keep going the way you are," he continued. "You have nowhere to go. No family. No life to return to. You're more than just a runaway."

"You don't know me," Mary Margaret breathed, the truth of his words crushing her heart. It was one thing to know it, but to actually hear it from someone else...

Mr. Gold smiled again, twisting his cane in his hand, eyes glinting. "I know more than you think, Miss Blanchard."

Mary Margaret felt her heart stop, fear threading itself throughout her body. How did he know? What did he want?

Her fear must have shown on her face because Mr. Gold added mildly, "Don't fret, your secret's safe with me."

Mary Margaret swallowed hard, trying to control her breathing. "What.. kind of deal are you offering?"

"I offer you a safe place to stay, the promise that you'll never go hungry, and the knowledge that Cora Mills will never find you while you're under my protection."

"And... what do you want in return?" Mary Margaret asked, eying him suspiciously. She wasn't well versed in street smarts, but she was not naive enough to ignore the sorts of business transactions that went on in this part of New Haven.

"I own an establishment not far from here. You'll work for me Wednesday through Sunday evenings. I'll take 40% of what you earn. The rest, you can do with what you will."

"I don't turn tricks," she responded angrily, shoving her arms into her coat sleeves.

"No, no Miss Blanchard, you misunderstand. Nothing about your job would involve 'tricks', as you say. I value my employees too much for that nonsense."

Mary Margaret hesitated, once again caught between the desire to flee and the desire to stay. "So what kind of 'establishment' is it then?"

He tilted his head, seeming pleased that she was willing to hear him out. "A club of sorts. I have many businesses running in this city, as well as many colleagues. I provide entertainment and a safe place from prying eyes and ears for them to meet. You would, of course, be expected to sign a non-disclosure agreement."

"What kind of entertainment?"

"That all depends on you, dearie. Everyone has a talent, some more than others. Music, dance.. I even have a little gal who just waitresses. As long as you're making money and adhering to your contract, I don't care what it is."

She pursed her lips, mulling over his words. "What's this place called?"

Mr. Gold grinned like he knew he almost had her. "The Forest."

IIII

Mr. Gold unlocked the back entrance door to the "club", as he called it. Mary Margaret hesitated as he turned to her, waiting for her to make her move. She gritted her teeth and went inside. He led her down a narrow hallway before coming to another door that led to the main part of the building. The room was long, but spacious. There was a bar on one side, tables and comfortable looking chairs on the other. She could see open doors that led to private meeting rooms down another hallway. It almost looked like a dimly lit, high end café, besides the stage in the very back. She looked at it warily, but noticed it lacked the stripper poles she was expecting. Maybe this Mr. Gold was being truthful after all.

Mary Margaret felt his eyes on her, as if he was reading her thoughts. "I told you, Snow, I run a business of fair repute. There will be no unclothed women here."

She blushed as he gazed at her, uncertain if it was because of the subject matter or her own inexperience with these sorts of conversations.

"You'll sleep upstairs with the rest of the girls. I provide a stocked kitchen and work clothing. What you do with your free time and money is up to you as long as you aren't late and adhere to the contract. I don't tolerate drugs or fraternization."

Mary Margaret nodded absently, eyes gazing at the piano in the back corner of the stage. It had been so long since she'd played...

"Do we have a deal?" Gold asked, eyes glinting again.

Mary Margaret looked at him intently. "What if I want out at some point?"

"Then you may leave, dearie," Gold stated simply. "However, the non-disclosure agreement must always be honored. It would be... unpleasant... if it was broken."

She nodded in understanding, though surprisingly she wasn't afraid of the implied threat. This man was nothing to be trifled with and, despite his smaller stature and limp, he was obviously someone with power. However, she'd take him over her step mother any day. She didn't have to stay here forever either. She could save up money, maybe even go to school during the day. Maybe she could become a teacher like she'd always dreamed about. Most importantly, she'd be safe.

An endless list of possibilities presented themselves as she again gazed at the piano in the back room. She was so tired of running...

"Okay," she whispered. "Deal."

IIIII

"Wonderful. I hope you find the arrangement mutually satisfying," Gold said, rolling up the freshly signed contract. She gave a small smile, relieved that things may be looking up for a change. Her head turned as movement out of the corner of her eye caught her attention. A young man came into view, gazing at her as he approached.

"Is this her, Mr. Gold?" he asked.

 _Does everyone here have an accent?_ she wondered. He was handsome, with beautiful eyes and thick hair that could have gotten him a modeling contract.

"Ah Graham, good. Snow, this is Graham, head of security. Graham, Snow."

He looked at her curiously as he shook her hand. She hoped she wasn't blushing.

"Graham, please escort Miss Snow upstairs. I'm sure she is exhausted by now."

"Sure," Graham responded, picking up Mary Margaret's bag and gesturing towards the back. She followed, just now realizing how tired she was. They wound up a flight of stairs and ended up in a long hallway the reminded her of college dorm rooms.

"You can stay in my room for tonight," he said, keying into the first door. She knew she was blushing now, and stared at the floor intently. He turned toward her and, seeing her face and misinterpreting her expression, froze in place and said, "No, no, it's not like that. Don't worry, no one will hurt you here."

His voice was reassuring and it tugged at her heart, his words saying everything she'd hoped for when she'd signed the contract.

"We'll get you set up with your own room in the morning. For now, take my bed. I'm on overnight watch anyways," he continued, placing her bag on his couch. "The bathroom is right there," he said, gesturing to an open door on the side of the room. "Feel free to use whatever you need. You can take your time, I won't be back until seven."

"Thank you," she replied softly.

Graham smiled warmly in return. "You're welcome. Now, try to get some rest. Tomorrow is a new day."

IIIIII

As Graham left the new girl, _Snow_ , to freshen up and rest, he made his way back down the stairs. Reaching the bottom, he looked around to make sure he was alone before pulling out his cell phone and dialing. After a few rings, a tired and annoyed voice answered.

"Do you realize what time it is?"

"I found her. The girl," Graham said.

"What? How?" the voice said, pleased but surprised.

"I told you I'm good at tracking people down," he replied evenly, hoping he hadn't scared the girl too much when he'd flushed her towards the entrance of Mr. Gold's pawn shop earlier. He knew she would find it a welcoming place to kip up for the night. He hadn't expected Gold to still be there, but it worked out very well. Here she was, just a floor above him.

"Good. Keep an eye on her. I'll be checking in," said the voice before hanging up.

Graham sighed and placed his phone back in his pocket, hoping he was doing the right thing.

* * *

 

_Present day_

Mary Margaret wiped her brow with the back of her hand as she moved around her classroom, picking up paint brushes and newspaper. As usual, the birdhouse lesson had gone spectacularly and, as usual, she was left with a mess to clean up. She didn't mind, though, loving how enthusiastic the children were. They would spend the rest of the week's science sections creating the written part of their projects.

The day had gone by quickly, leaving not much room for thinking about other things. Mary Margaret sighed at that, unwanted thoughts of the letter threatening to darken her good mood as she wiped the desks off one more time. So, she focused on other thoughts instead; thoughts of beautiful blue eyes and a kind, charming smile.

To say she was looking forward to possibly seeing David at the coffee shop tomorrow would be an understatement. Mary Margaret chuckled to herself, somehow knowing it was probable more than possible. He'd made it clear he'd like to see her again. The way he looked at her, smiled at her, laughed with her; it made her feel something she'd long since thought was buried. Hope.

Although the feeling frightened her, especially considering they hadn't known each other very long, she just couldn't bring herself to run away anymore. He was being careful with her, she knew. She could sense it in his voice, his questions, and how he looked at her. Her heart swelled at the possibility, and the guarded part of her tried one last time to be heard.

_It's going too fast. You'll only get broken again in the end. Stop this while you can. You've survived this long, don't ruin it!_

Mary Margaret was tired of running. She was tired of reacting. For once, she wanted to take an active part in her future, wanted to escape the stringent rules and schedules she'd created out of fear. Might as well do something symbolic, she thinks. She crumpled up the used newspaper in her hands and threw it into the trash bin. Grinning, she washed her hands at the sink. For the first time in a long while, she was welcoming the unexpected. It scared her and thrilled her at the same time.

Closing and locking the classroom door behind her, she made her way to her truck and drove home. She ate dinner, took a long hot bath, and crawled into bed early, ready for a new and unexpected day tomorrow.


	9. Maybe

Chapter 9: Maybe

Mary Margaret rushed to brush her teeth and put her shoes on at the same time. How she'd overslept was beyond her. She was still up an hour before she usually was on a normal day. However, the past couple of days had been anything but normal and Mary Margaret was finding that she was beginning to like that very much. She unceremoniously shoved her hat on and practically ran out the door, shouldering her bag haphazardly as she double checked that the door was locked.

The air was cold and crisp but Mary Margaret barely noticed as she steered her truck towards the coffee shop. Luckily, traffic was light this early in the morning. She entered the coffee shop, first glance going towards the chairs and table in the corner to see that they were empty. Biting back a twinge of disappointment, she approached the counter to find August gazing at her in a bemused sort of way.

"What?" she asked, feigning to look around at any other potential persons he could be looking at.

"Double today?" he asked, a knowing smile still his lips.

"No, I'm good, thanks." She really was. After two nights in a row of barely any sleep, last night was a welcome change. No nightmares at all. She'd slept so soundly, she hadn't heard her first alarm go off. Luckily, she always set two just in case. Pulling off her gloves, she glanced around as the door opened. It wasn't David.

"Meeting anyone?" August asked as he swiped her card.

Mary Margaret's eyes widened and her lips parted in surprise as she stared at August. How did he know? Of course, he was bound to notice her and David talking yesterday. It's not like Mary Margaret really talked to anyone, much less invite them to sit with her. She really didn't know how to respond to August's question though. David hadn't technically said he'd be here this morning. Technically, neither did she. Technically.

"Easy," August said, handing her card back to her, barely suppressing a laugh. "I had to give you a little guff. It's not every day a knight in red flannel sweeps Mary Margaret off her feet. Literally."

"Is it really that obvious?" Mary Margaret replied, cheeks burning.

"No, I just read people well," he replied, setting to work on her drink. Mary Margaret watched him work, too flustered to think of a good comeback at the moment. She'd give him one later, though, that much was certain.

"He was going to pay for the cup that got broken when you ran into each other. Did you notice that?" he asked after a few moments, glancing briefly at her while he poured the milk.

"No. No, I didn't," she responded thoughtfully. It wasn't very surprising, really. David certainly seemed like the honorable type. August smiled knowingly again.

"Stop looking so smug, August."

"It's a rare day where I can be smug with you Ms. Snow," he quipped as he handed her the bluebird cup. "I have to take full advantage of it when the opportunity arises." With a wink, he turned to help the next customer in line. Mary Margaret snorted, conceding him this small victory.

She grabbed a couple of napkins and turned towards her newly designated seat when the bell on the door chimed again and in walked David. She let out a breath she didn't know she'd been holding and her heart warmed as he glanced around the corner, clearly looking for her. His brow furrowed at her absence and he turned around, eyes meeting hers, and he seemed to let out a breath of his own. Mary Margaret felt rooted to the spot as he smiled that charming half-smile that made his blue eyes light up, the one she was secretly beginning to wish was just for her. He took a few steps toward her, hands in his pockets.

"Morning!" she said brightly, in a manner that she hoped would mask just how much his presence effected her.

_Charming, indeed._

He chuckled. "Good morning. I see you're tempting fate again." Mary Margaret looked at him questioningly. "You didn't get a to-go cup," he explained, gesturing to her coffee.

Mary Margaret let out a breathy laugh, glancing at the bluebird cup in her hands. "Ha, yeah I..." she trailed off, unable to voice what she was thinking without feeling foolish.

He took a step closer, tilting his head toward her. "You werent sure if I was coming," he said softly.

It wasn't a question and she wasn't sure how she felt about how intuitive he was. She glanced up at him and knew then, with one hundred percent certainty, that she was done for. His gaze held so much strength and warmth, curiosity and understanding. She wanted to throw a sarcastic remark back in his face to lighten the mood, wanted to ignore the pounding of her heart.

Instead, she whispered, "No."

The vulnerability in her own voice as she said it made her want to cringe. She half expected him to have a cheeky comeback or turn around and head for the hills, but David simply gazed at her for a brief moment before giving a slight nod in understanding.

"Well," he continued lightly, "may I join you? I can't stay long today but-"

"Yes, that's fine," Mary Margaret said breathlessly, half exasperated with herself and half relieved David hadn't pushed to continue the conversation.

He seemed to pick up on her change in mood, merely giving another small nod before going to order his coffee. Mary Margaret made her way over to what was becoming their corner of the shop and sat down in her chair. After making sure her coffee cup was placed securely in her hands, she looked up and caught David staring at her. He glanced down when their eyes had met on the pretense of grabbing a couple of napkins, but she could see a light blush on his cheeks. Well, at least she wasn't the only flustered one in this situation.

David made his way over to his chair, to-go cup of coffee in hand. "Got some extra napkins," he said, holding them up for her to see. "We do have a poor track record."

_Nice try._

"Yes, I saw that," she quipped with a knowing smirk. His eyes snapped to hers intently, a look that she was beginning to grow used to. He was charming, honorable, and earnest it seemed. Seeing her teasing smile seemed to relax him somewhat, though his look turned a bit sheepish.

"That obvious huh?" he asked, sounding a bit nervous. She had to bite back a giggle as he spoke her own words from earlier. They were quite the pair.

"Maybe a little," Mary Margaret responded softly, taking a sip of her coffee as she took in his reaction. David let out a breathy laugh, looking down at the coffee in his hands as he leaned his elbows on his knees. He looked exhausted, which concerned her more than it probably should. He glanced up at the clock on the wall before turning his eyes back to hers.

"I'm sorry but I have to go. Work has been piling up and I need to go in to try and sort it all out. I probably won't be able to come here for the rest of the week."

"Oh," she said, trying not to sound disappointed and casting her eyes down at her own cup. _Maybe he'd changed his mind?_ "Yeah, no problem."

There was a moment of awkward silence before David broke it. "I was... wondering..." Mary Margaret glanced back up at him, daring to hope, "maybe we could meet here on Saturday morning? To talk?"

If Mary Margaret didn't know any better, she could swear her heart was doing a tap dance. He was looking hopefully at her, and she could tell he was holding his breath without even realizing it.

_Gosh, you're adorable._

"Maybe," she replied with a cheeky grin.

David chuckled, the sound making Mary Margaret grin even broader. He shook his head good naturedly and leaned toward her. "I'll take 'maybe'."

"Good, it's a date," she quipped as lightly as her nervousness would allow.

A smile slowly crept onto his face at her words. "Yes, it's a date."


	10. Hero

Chapter 10: Hero

_Ten years earlier_

David walked down the darkened street toward his apartment, glad it was Friday and that he had the weekend off. It had been six months since leaving Albert's home and the only regret he had was that his mother didn't go with him. James had moved out also, but chose a lavish condo near the university where he was to eventually attend law school after getting his undergraduate degree. Albert payed for everything, of course, leaving James plenty of time to do whatever it was that he did these days. It had been a while since they'd talked, but neither brother seemed too bothered by it.

David wasn't sure what he wanted to do with his life yet, so he had started off by enrolling at the local community college for general education courses. Ruth had balked at this, knowing David was offered admittance at several schools, but he couldn't justify spending an exorbitant amount of money on college when he wasn't sure what he wanted to do yet and he had no desire to accept any money belonging to Albert. He also couldn't bring himself to leave his mother in New Haven alone.

So, David had enrolled in school and found two jobs upon moving into his new place. It had been lonely at first, but classes in the morning, part time work at the animal shelter in the afternoon, and working at the gym in the evening kept him productively busy. When his mother was not around to fret, he got plenty of it from Mabel, the apartment front desk clerk. He was sure both women were in constant contact with each other over the state of his well being, but he just rolled his eyes good naturedly at them whenever they became too overbearing.

He shifted his bag on his shoulder as he rounded the corner, coming to a sudden halt as he heard scuffling noises coming from across the street.

"Let go!" a voice screamed desperately. "Let me go! Stop!"

David heard a thump and a deep grunt coming from the alleyway across the street and he immediately dropped his bag and sprinted toward the noise. He could barely see a thing, but he could make out three silhouettes struggling against each other. They were heading in the other direction and didn't see him.

"Stop fighting before I _make_ you," a deep voice grunted harshly, almost lifting the smaller person into the air with the force of his pull.

David saw that it was a girl and she was fighting tooth and nail to get free. Her scream was quickly muffled by the second man. David's heart leapt into his throat. He had no phone to call the police and who knew what would happen if he left this girl to fend for herself while he ran and got help. He needed to do something. Options limited, surprise seemed like the best tactic. He looked around and saw a discarded piece of metal piping that was about as long as his arm. He picked it up off of the ground and gripped it in his hand like a sword as he crept forward.

"Don't hurt yourself. You're only making this worse," the second voice said as the girl flailed her legs out, trying in vain to kick the two larger men holding her. David could see she was getting tired from fighting.

_Now or never._

"HEY!"

Both men spun around, still holding the girl. Even through the darkness, David could see that she couldn't be much older than himself. Her eyes were wild, her long blonde hair a mess from her struggle. The men wore ski masks and dark clothing.

"Let her go," he said firmly, tightening his grip on the pipe in his hand.

"Or what?" the larger man spat, tightening his own grip on the girl as she renewed her struggle.

"I called the police," David said coolly, fighting to keep his voice even in his anger. "They'll be here any minute."

The smaller man shifted, as if contemplating running away, but the larger man shoved the girl into his arms as he started stalking his way toward David.

"By the time they get here you won't be in any shape to tell them anything," he growled at David, reaching for his pocket.

A surge of adrenaline went through David and he brought the pipe down on the man's arm before he could pull out whatever he was reaching for. At that same moment, the girl side stepped onto the smaller man's foot in his distraction and elbowed him in the ribs. He grunted in pain, but moved his arm up to grip her around the neck as she almost freed herself. She twisted around, trying to get a good shot at the man's shins and managed to get a solid swipe at his nose. He yelped and let go of her.

David braced himself as the larger man rushed at him. He side stepped and grabbed the man's arm and shoulder to throw him against the brick wall of the nearest building.

"Run!" David yelled at the girl. She hesitated, then ran out of the alleyway to safety.

David turned back around to make sure the men couldn't follow her, and not a moment too soon. The larger man had pulled out a long knife and made a swipe that David barely blocked with the pipe. He let out short, hoarse cry as he felt the blade rip along his left shoulder. David knocked the man down with a backswing of the pipe, then reach for his wound with his good arm. It felt like his shoulder was on fire and his arm didn't seem to want to work properly.

He staggered backwards and blocked a punch from the smaller man, who was bleeding profusely from his nose. David knew he wouldn't be able to run for it, not with these men so close and armed. All he could do was stand his ground and try to take the action to the street where someone might see them. He tried to focus despite the pain radiating into his upper body from his shoulder.

Both men came at him now. David managed to block the knife fully this time, despite his hindered mobility, but took a kick to the ribs from the second man instead. He knew he'd lost before it happened, but he tried anyways. David tried to backswing the pipe again, but the second man grabbed him around both shoulders from behind and the first lunged at him with the knife.

If he thought the pain in his shoulder hurt, it didn't compare to this. He could feel his body go into shock, the strength leave his limbs as the blade pierced his abdomen. David didn't think he made a sound, but the roaring in his ears as the blade was wrenched free of him could have drowned it out. It was a strange sensation, he thought, the feeling of so much pain and relative numbness at the same time, like he was an outsider in his own body.

"That's what you get for meddling and trying to be a hero," the larger man growled as David fell to the ground.

"We need to get out of here, dude. He's as good as dead anyways," the smaller man said, looking nervously at the alley entrance. "We can't get caught here, it'll start an all out war."

The larger man let out a grunt in response before kicking David on his injured side and taking off down the alleyway in the other direction. David let out a gasp at the contact, his breathing harsh and labored, and clutched his stab wound with his right hand.

_So this is how it ends_ , he thought ruefully, feeling the blood seep through his fingers.

At least he went out doing something of meaning.

He could feel his body shaking, already felt the urge to close his eyes.

He thought of his mother, his brother, his father, the farm.

At least the girl was safe.

The world was beginning to spin slowly as he looked up at the sky.

How many moments had passed?

It seemed to be going strangely quiet...

"Oh my God! Oh my God, oh my God," came a voice beyond his blurry vision. He turned his head to see the blonde girl kneeling down next to him, pulling her jacket off.

"NEAL!" she screamed, removing David's hand from his stomach and pressing her jacket into the wound. The resulting pain slammed him back to earth, and he could vaguely hear the guttural groan that escaped his lips. She must have seen the person she called for because she looked up and yelled "Neal get help!"

"Ok, on it!" came another voice.

The girl turned her attention back to him, shaky hands still pressing the jacket into his wound. "It's ok. You're gonna be ok. We're getting help."

David nodded stiffly, unable to speak with his jaw clenched against the throbbing radiating throughout his entire body.

"What's your name?" the girl asked.

"David Nolan," he gasped shakily, grasping at the chance for a distraction. She nodded.

"I'm Emma Swan."

"Hi."

"Hi. I need you to stay awake ok?"

" 'kay," he said.

"Here," Emma removed one hand from her jacket and placed it under his head as a cushion against the cold pavement. "Better?"

"Mm" he mumbled, eyes getting heavy. She leaned harder against his wound and his eyes flew open again as he uttered a sharp gasp.

"Don't close your eyes, David. You saved me, now I'm saving you right? Just.. just hold on." She was looking toward the entrance of the alley again.

"You ok?" he asked softly, searching her face. She sucked in a breath and gazed at him for a moment, clearly not expecting that. She had a bloody lip and her eye was bruising but David could sense that any real pain Emma had wasn't physical. He saw it in her eyes.

"I'm fine," she said softly, if not a little awkwardly.

"Are.. y.. safe?" he mumbled, brain growing steadily fuzzier.

"What are you my dad?" she responded sarcastically, though amusement laced her voice and her lips curved into a slight smile. Her smiled faltered as David gazed at her intently. "Yeah," she breathed. "Yeah I'm safe. I'm gonna get you help then get to where it's safe."

"Good," he whispered. He heard footsteps, but they sounded like echoes in his foggy brain. The world was beginning to spin again and it took all of David's remaining strength to focus on keeping Emma's face upright in his vision.

"An ambulance is coming Em. We need to get out of here before the cops show up," the young man said as he knelt beside David and Emma, panting from running.

Emma glanced down at David, then back to Neal, clearly torn. David could see the tension in Neal's face and briefly wondered why they thought the police would be worrisome. Yet, Emma had said she would be safe. If he were to die here, which was feeling likelier by the minute, David could feel at peace with that at least.

"Did you tell them he was in the alleyway?" Emma asked Neal.

"Yes, I told them exactly," he responded earnestly. Emma took a deep breath, moving her eyes back to David's.

"Go," David said, voice hoarse. She shook her head and opened her mouth to speak but he cut her off before she could respond. " _Go_."

He couldn't tell her it would be alright. Firstly, because it probably wouldn't be and he wasn't going to lie to the woman who was trying to save his life. Secondly, David could see fear in her eyes again and he just couldn't take that. Thirdly, he could tell she knew all of this already and wanted to do the honorable thing but needed to run at the same time.

Sirens echoed from a distance, and Emma tensed as she continued to stare at David. Then, she was leaning over him and placing a kiss on his forehead. David closed his eyes, accepting her thank you and goodbye and everything the gesture was. He struggled to re open his eyes as Emma pulled back, her eyes brimming with tears. She pulled off her stocking hat and placed it under his head. He couldn't help but see how much of his blood was on her hands. David could hear the sirens getting closer. He mustered his last bit of strength to bring his good arm across his body to squeeze one of her hands with his.

"Go."

"I..." she started, tears finally falling.

"I know. Now _go_."

Emma nodded, looking down to make sure her jacket was still on his wound properly before standing up. With one last look at David, Emma and Neal ran out of the alley and into the street, turning in the opposite direction the ambulance appeared to be coming from.

David vaguely thought he should feel cold, lying there on the cement, but he wasn't feeling much of anything. His body throbbed, but his brain felt dull and fuzzy, adding a strange numbness to the pain. Relieved that Emma wouldn't see him die, he gazed up at the sky again and watched it spin. It felt like his body was floating, trying to join the sky that was now filled with flickering lights. Finally giving in, David closed his eyes, hoping that whatever lay beyond this moment was, at least, a good adventure.

II

_Beep..beep..beep..beep_

David furrowed his brow, wondering what that incessant noise was. He tried to roll over onto his left side but was met with piercing pain. He let out a groan as he recoiled back onto his back, eyes blearily snapping open. His throat felt dry and his thoughts slow. Glancing around, he realized he was in a hospital room and vaguely wondered how that happened.

_Right. Emma._

Wherever she was, he hoped she was safe now.

"David?"

His eyes darted to his right at the sound of that familiar voice. James was sitting in the chair nearest him, eying him with what looked like a mixture of emotions. David looked to the couch behind James and saw his mother laying on it, fast asleep. Only exhaustion would have forced Ruth to sleep when one of her sons was in the hospital.

"How long was I out?" David asked, surprised at how sore and scratchy his throat was.

James immediately got up and grabbed a glass of water, helping David hold it to his lips as he drank. After a few moments, David settled back onto his pillow, feeling dizzy. James pulled the chair closer to David's bed.

"You've been out for three days. Your intestine was punctured and a few other things got knicked but nothing they couldn't fix. Your shoulder was repairable and they said with therapy you should be able to regain full use of it. You lost a lot of blood and had to have a few transfusions."

David nodded, remembering how red Emmas' hands were. James looked down, fiddling with David's empty cup. He was sorting through his thoughts, so David waited patiently.

"What were you doing out there?"

"Walking home," David responded. "Just finished work. I heard a girl in trouble and went to help."

"Why didn't you call anyone?"

"I don't have a cell phone, James."

James raised an eyebrow, whether at David's tone or the fact that his twin didn't have a cell phone, David wasn't sure. Probably both.

"Did you get a good look at the guys that did it?" James asked nonchalantly. Too nonchalantly.

"How do you know it was more than one?" David asked, not answering his brother's question.

"Because it would take more than one person to bring you down," James replied coolly, clearly not liking the direction David was taking the conversation.

They stared at each other for a few moments, stuck in a stalemate. Finally, David broke the silence.

"They were wearing masks. I didn't see anything. One was bigger built. That's all I've got."

"Did they slip names? Say if they were working for anyone?"

"No," David said, wincing at the twinge of pain that shot through his shoulder as he shook his head. James was staring away from him now, a far off look in his eyes. It was the same look his mother had had when she and David were discussing leaving Albert. Drugged up as he was, David knew these weren't random questions.

"You know something," David guessed, watching James' reaction. His twin's attention snapped back to him.

"This shouldn't have happened."

"James, what are you talking about? What do you know?"

James started shaking his head even before David stopped speaking, jaw clenched tight. David leaned as far as he could toward James.

"What have you gotten yourself into?" he whispered.

James exhaled. "Nothing that concerns you, big brother."

David opened his mouth to argue but a small gasp behind James made both brothers jump. He had to bite back a curse as a jolt of pain coursed through him.

"Oh David. Oh my boy," Ruth said tearfully, coming to his bedside. James moved, giving their mother room.

"I'll give you two some time. Call me when you're ready to get dinner Mother," he said as he made his way toward the door.

"We'll talk later," David said pointedly, gazing intently at his twin.

James stopped, turning to face him. David could see he was on the edge of spilling, but James just shrugged and said "Sure," before leaving the room and closing the door behind him.

David exhaled and sank back into his pillows, fatigue and pain finally taking their toll. Ruth ran a hand over his forehead, stopping to cup his cheek as her eyes filled with tears, her eyes saying everything that needed to be said. He managed a small smile, moving his good arm to clasp her hand in his.

A nurse came in, saying James had informed the doctor that David was awake and that the doctor prescribed another round of pain medicine. She took his vitals before injecting the medicine into his IV. David relaxed, reveling in the glorious numbness that was spreading throughout his body, lulling him back to sleep.

* * *

 

_Present day_

A date. He had a date with Mary Margaret.

_Was Margaret her last name?_

He hadn't thought to ask before.

David rotated his left shoulder gingerly as he walked through the station door. The cold continued to aggravate his old injury, but nothing could dampen his spirits today. He made his way down the hall, greeting his coworkers as he passed. Opening the door revealed Sean already at work reading through files. His partner's eyes snapped up from the file in front of him, and the slight look of guilt on his face made David's heart leap into his throat.

_He found James' file._

David swallowed and cleared his throat. "Morning."

"Morning," Sean responded, still staring.

"What?" David asked after a moment, too anxious to even attempt levity.

"Nothing," Sean said quickly, eyes darting down to the file on the table. "I just.. didn't know."

David took a deep breath. "Look Sean-"

"They really never found out who the two guys were?" Sean asked.

David blinked. "What?"

"The two guys that attacked you."

David quickly turned to pick up a box of files on the floor to hide his relief. Of course his file would be in these boxes. The police never found out who attacked he and Emma in that alley.

"No, they didn't," he responded lightly. " but I like to hope they reformed."

Sean shook his head, reading the file. "Is that why you went into law enforcement?"

"Yes," David said, nodding.

Though, it hadn't really been what had happened to him that cemented the decision. It was the fear in Emma's eyes when the police were mentioned. He could still see the picture clearly in his mind even all these years later. No one should fear law enforcement. Respect, yes. But not fear. He liked to hope he was somehow paying her back for saving his life.

There was a poignant silence, neither man quite sure what to say. Sean cleared his throat.

"So, why are you late again?"

David rolled his eyes. "I'm not late."

"But you were somewhere?"

David pulled a few files out of the box. "Maybe."

"And?"

"And I told her I couldn't make it to the coffee shop for the rest of the week because of work. But.. we have a date on Saturday morning." He looked up, catching Sean's Cheshire Cat grin before he could hide it. David held up a particularly thick file. "Don't make me chuck this at you," he said in mock seriousness.

Sean chuckled. "Noted."


	11. Trade

Chapter 11: Trade

David scrubbed a hand over his face, blinking the bleariness out of his eyes. He felt, and knew he probably looked, like death. Sean didn't look much better, slumped back in his chair looking like he was going to doze off at any moment. Piles of cold case files lay around the long table, marking the work the two men had labored on over the past two days. The evidence grid was a work in progress, but it was shaping up nicely. Now that they were on a roll, they'd barely been out of the office, only going home for a cat nap and a shower. Sean yawned, glancing at the clock.

"It's 14:30. You should probably get ready for 2nd shift," Sean said, a look of pity on his face.

"TGIF," David replied dryly, standing to stretch.

He didn't regret helping Philip out, but now he was also torn between a desire to sleep and a desire to keep working on their cases. Matters weren't helped by the certain dark haired beauty that had been frequenting his dreams over the last week. Intense, vivid dreams of scenes from another land and time he'd never been to. He was never a man with much fantastical creativity, so the setting of his dreams seemed odd to him. It was like a fairytale but his thoughts and feelings were quite real, especially those he held for Mary Margaret.

Some were lighthearted and David woke with a smile on his face and her laughter in his ears. She looked like a princess, her hair long and wild, a coy smile reserved just for him playing on her lips, pale skin silken against his palms. Even in his dreams, his heartbeat tripped over itself at the sight and he longed to be the man to make her happy for the rest of their days.

Others were quite terrifying and he awoke in a cold sweat, reaching for a sword he did not possess. These were dreams of loss and constant searching, the fear of never finding her again overwhelming him into the waking world. Either way, lighthearted or dark, David hadn't slept well and he was definitely feeling the effects.

He didn't know what to make of these dreams. They were even more intense than the dreams he would have about James' death. How could he feel this way for someone he had just met and barely knew? A part of him thought he was losing it, dreaming this way about Mary Margaret, feeling in some way that she was already his. It was ridiculous. And yet, his stomach turned nervously whenever he thought about seeing her on Saturday morning.

Which was tomorrow.

_Oh God. Help._

"Don't stay too late. We can hit it hard on Monday," David told Sean sternly as he stood and put on his jacket. The last thing his partner needed was to burn himself out.

"Twist my arm," Sean replied with a good natured smirk. David snorted, grabbing the keys to their unmarked squad car and placing his gun on his belt before turning back to his partner.

"Have a good weekend, Sean. See you Monday. Tell Ashley hi for me."

"Yeah, you too. Be careful out there tonight. There's been more activity in that patrol area recently."

David rolled his eyes. "You're going to make a wonderfully overbearing father."

"You know it," Sean returned with a grin.

* * *

 

Mary Margaret walked as quietly as she could down the dark street toward the pawn shop. She didn't want to bring too much attention to herself, so she'd parked her truck at the truck stop by the interstate. Although it had been years since she'd last frequented this part of town, her feet carried her to her destination as if on autopilot, and she knew its reputation hadn't improved. Her hand squeezed the mace she'd purchased, her ears strained for any sound indicating that someone was following her.

Letting out a breath of relief, Mary Margaret turned down a side alleyway to the back entrance of the shop. She looked around before knocking, trying not to shake from nerves. The door opened and the proprietor of the establishment stood before her, leaning on his cane, looking just as he did when she'd last seen him. His eyes glinted at the sight of her, a knowing smile on his lips. Mary Margaret had spent years perfecting her ability to hide emotions, but this man always had a way of seemingly gazing into her soul, revealing all of her secrets.

"Mr. Gold," Mary Margaret greeted with a nod, glad her voice hadn't wavered.

"Ah, Miss _Snow_ ," he drawled, lips curving upward even more. "Do come in."

He held the door open for her as she walked inside, then closed and locked it behind them. Besides new items, the back room looked just like she remembered it. Cramped, with a table in the middle.

"You look exhausted, dearie. Can I offer you a cup of tea?" he asked, peering at her intently.

She _was_ exhausted. Without having much to look forward to, the letter had been pressing on her mind over the past couple of days. When sleep finally did come, she dreamed of David. Dreams so real, she swore she could actually feel his hand in hers, feel his breath on her lips when they kissed, hear his deep laughter in her ears. It was almost frightening how real it felt. Mary Margaret shook her head slightly, partly in response to the question and partly to shake herself from her thoughts.

"No, thank you."

"Yes, of course," he said, indicating for her to sit down at the table before seating himself. He gave her a pointed look. "You want me to get on with why I summoned you here."

"You.." Mary Margaret swallowed. "You said the past was revisiting us. What did you mean by that?"

"I meant, Miss Snow, that law enforcement is beginning to dig into a few cold cases that could put both of us in jeopardy. I deemed it necessary to warn you in case they should come calling."

She narrowed her eyes at him, reading between the lines. "I haven't forgotten the disclosure agreement I signed Mr. Gold."

"Ah, yes. That is another point I'd wanted to discuss. However, I truly did want to warn you as a common courtesy. I know how you fear the truth coming out."

"Why would you do that for me?" she whispered, the weight of his words making her feel like a trapped animal.

"Because, Miss Blanchard, I'm invested in your future."

She let out a nervous, breathy laugh at the sound of her former name, looking down at her hands in her lap. He leaned toward her slightly, catching her attention and causing her to lift her eyes to his once more.

"Miss Blanchard, I gave you my word that Cora Mills would never find you as long as you were under my protection. I provided you with a new start, a new name, a way out of what would most likely have been your inevitable death."

Mary Margaret vaguely wondered if she was still breathing as he spoke.

"As far as I'm concerned, you are still under my protection as long as you continue as you have been."

She let out a breath at that, feeling a bit light headed but still unable to look away from his locked gaze.

"However, remember the agreement. No matter what happens, you must keep your word," he finished, eyes glinting.

"Of course," she managed.

Mr. Gold observed her closely for a few moments before, seemingly satisfied by what he saw, he rose from his seat.

"Thank you for meeting me at this late hour Miss Snow," he said, the corners of his lips turning upward as he spoke the name she'd chosen to go by. "The winds are changing. Do take care not to get caught in the gale."

She rose from her seat also before nodding, not even needing to contemplate what his meaning could be. "Goodbye Mr. Gold."

"Miss Snow."

II

Mary Margaret started toward the truck stop, taking deep measured breaths as she walked, every exhale resulting in a vapor of mist in the cold night air. Someone was investigating cold cases. Were they truly close to possibly finding out about her? Gold must think so, or he wouldn't have asked her to come tonight. A shiver that had nothing to do with the cold ran through her body. She needed to be especially vigilant.

As she rounded a corner onto the darkened street, she felt a prickle on the back of her neck. Her hand grasped instinctively around the mace in her pocket, recognizing the all too familiar feeling of being watched. She glanced over her shoulder, stomach dropping at the sight of two men following her at a slight distance. Though, if they kept up their pace, she would be overtaken quickly.

Increasing speed, she turned down the next street, hoping to shake them off. But no, they continued to follow, the distance between them and herself continuing to decrease. There was no doubt in her mind they were trying to catch up with her, and they had another thing coming if they thought it would be an easy task. As she rounded the next corner, Mary Margaret broke into a sprint, flying as fast as she could toward the next street and into an alleyway.

She could hear the two men running behind her, could barely make out one of them saying "Split up!" Sure enough, as she turned to look, she only saw one of them continuing to chase her. Adrenaline pushing her even faster, Mary Margaret rounded the next corner, relief starting to spread through her as she caught sight of a busy intersection two blocks away.

_Almost there..._

She was almost through the alleyway when she slammed into a tall, solid figure that locked their arms around her before she fell to the ground, effectively trapping her. Mary Margaret whirled around in panic, trying to free herself.

"Get _off_!" she yelled.

"Whoa, easy-"

"Let go!"

"Hey, it's ok I'm a-"

What he was, Mary Margaret never heard because she'd removed her can of mace from her coat pocket and clocked him in the face with it. He let out a short yelp, releasing one hand holding her and raising it to his face. The other still had a firm grip on her other arm and, try as she might, he was strong.

"Listen, I'm a _cop_ ," he growled a bit breathlessly as she continued to resist.

_Sure you are._

She'd dropped the mace with the force of hitting him and cursed under her breath at the loss of her only weapon. Mary Margaret was about to go on the offensive again, but any fight she'd had left and whatever sharp retort she'd had ready to throw at him died on her lips the instant her eyes met his.

" _David_?" she asked gasped incredulously.

He looked dumbstruck for a moment, taking in the sight of her as he held his hand to his chin. His brow was furrowed and his lips were parted and his eyes filled with concern. She felt blood rush to her cheeks.

_Oh no._

"Mary Margaret?" he asked breathlessly, stepping closer to her.

Her heart and mind raced. She wanted to run. He was a cop. Why was he here, on this night of all nights? Did he know? Was this all just an elaborate plan to catch her?

"Are you alright? What happened, why were you running?" Her breath hitched at the intensity of his gaze and the roughness in his voice and she was very well aware of his hand still holding her forearm. No, he couldn't know she'd be here. Even in the dark, his blue eyes shown bright with worry.

"I..." _Oh crap_. "I was visiting someone," she said. _Well, it's the truth._ "I was walking back to my truck when they started following me."

"Who?" he asked immediately, standing up straight and turning his attention to where she'd come from, his other hand moving from his chin to the small of her back as he shifted himself between her and the alleyway. She could feel her body hum at his closeness, knowing full well it wasn't just the adrenaline from the moment before.

_Oh God. Help._

"I don't know," she responded truthfully, eyes cast downward to where his hand still gently held her arm. He'd gone quite still. Probably listening for something, she guessed. She swallowed hard, trying to master her reaction to being so close to him, and lifted her eyes to his face. She let out a small gasp.

"What is it?" David asked at once, turning back to her. His hands had immediately moved to her shoulders, his gaze intent.

"You're bleeding," she said softly.

He lifted the back of one hand to his chin and winced slightly, pulling it away again to see blood. "Ah." He looked up at her again and whatever he saw made him break into a soft smile that made her breath hitch again. "It's ok. I've had worse," he said with a light shrug.

She definitely didn't like the idea of _that_.

"Well," she said, her voice sounding stronger - and she was quite unsure about where this confidence was coming from- "since I've probably scarred you for life at least let me help you clean that up." Her eyes glanced at his chin before returning to meet his. His eyebrows rose in surprise.

"Oh no, you don't ha-"

"I _want_ to," she insisted. "Please."

David hesitated, then took a deep breath before nodding. "Okay. But I'm buying you some food," he said seriously.

"What? No you don-"

"You're shaking," he pointed out, giving her a soft but level look.

Sure enough, Mary Margaret felt her body shivering. _Huh_.

David didn't say it, but she could see he was concerned for her after what had just happened, and now that she could see his badge and gun on his belt she figured he'd seen this sort of reaction from someone before. She looked down as she crossed her arms over her middle, feeling the blush on her cheeks deepen. He seemed to pick up on her self consciousness.

"Let's make a trade," he said lightly. "Your medical expertise for a late night meal. I'll even let you pick where you want to eat. And," he unzipped his jacket and reached out to hand it to her, "I'm giving you this."

She narrowed her eyes at him, questioning and teasing at the same time.

"Wear it or carry it, either way it's yours until we get you someplace warm," he insisted.

Mary Margaret let out a breathy laugh, unsure if she should be annoyed or flattered at his show of chivalry. "Well, aren't you a real Prince Charming?"

David smiled a smile deserving of such a nickname. "Only if you say so," he responded lowly, moving to put his jacket around her shoulders.

Mary Margaret held her breath as he did, very aware of how much he tried not to touch her. As he put space between them again, she realized her view of him was less hindered without his jacket. He'd crossed his arms over his chest against the cold and she could easily imagine how strong and lean he was underneath the long sleeved collared shirt he wore.

She felt her body warming as their gazes locked and, as much as he was trying to be a gentleman, she could see that David felt pulled toward her just as much as she felt pushed toward him. Her heart was pounding and she swore she could hear his too. Clearing her throat, she broke eye contact and shrugged his leather jacket more securely around herself. David straightened, clearly just noticing he'd been leaning in toward her.

_Levity you idiot!_

She smirked at him. "You know, I'm certified in First Aid. That's pretty extensive medical knowledge." David raised an eyebrow. "I'm not sure a meal will cover payment," she continued.

"What other payment will you require?" he asked seriously, but the guarded humor in his eyes gave him away.

"Mmm" Mary Margaret tilted her head and looked up, as if in thought, then straighened again. "I'll have to think about it."

David chuckled and shook his head. "You'll need time to consider it, of course?"

"Yes," she nodded regally. "It _is_ quite the favor after all."

And there was that charming grin again that made her knees go weak and he probably didn't even realize he was doing it. _Damn him_.

"Well," he continued,"you have time to think about it. The car's just around the block." He inclined his head toward the direction his car must be in. "Shall we?"

"Lead the way Charming," Mary Margaret replied nonchalantly, casting an inviting smile over her shoulder as she began walking in the direction he'd indicated.

David looked after her for a moment before rolling his eyes skyward and following, a smirk on his lips.

III

Two men stood in shadow on the other side of the street one block away. Both were slightly out of breath from chasing after the girl. They watched as she walked in the other direction with the detective, the latter of which kept glancing around and checking their surroundings.

"That him?" one man gruffly asked the other.

"Aye. It certainly is a small world."

"How'd she know the girl would be here?"

"It's not our job to ask questions mate."

The first one shifted on his feet, looking uncomfortable. "Should we call her?"

"I suppose we should," the second man said, pulling out a cell phone. It barely rang once.

"Yes?" asked a sharp female voice.

"It's me. We found her but she conveniently ran into a certain detective."

"What?" she replied shortly.

"She bolted and ran herself right smack into his waiting arms. It's rather poetic, really. So, unless you'd like us to act now, there's nothing further we can do tonight."

"I will remind you that you will not get your payment until she is brought to me."

He clenched his jaw. "Yes, I'm quite aware of the fine print of this deal."

"Good. Keep an eye on our detective. I'll contact you again soon."

"Looking forward to it," Killian replied dryly, closing the phone with a snap.


	12. Heat

 

Chapter 12: Heat

_Ten years earlier_

James stepped into his condo, haphazardly tossing the keys onto the granite countertop and going directly for the liquor cabinet. The last three days at the hospital had been hell and he felt he needed to toast himself a few times for surviving it. He pulled a bottle of bourbon out and sat himself at the counter, pouring it into a shot glass before downing it in one gulp. His mother wouldn't be happy to see him doing this, underage and all, but James had never really been one for limits.

Eyes closed, he concentrated on the burning that traveled from his tongue down his throat. He exhaled, running a hand over his face, and opened his eyes again. No, he'd never been one for limits, but David was. James poured another shot at the thought. David, the naive idealist, almost getting himself killed because of his damn noble streak. The idiot had no idea what he may have just started. James downed the second shot.

_Buzz buzz_

James groaned, lowering his head. He reached into his pocket to pull out his cell phone to see a text message from Kathryn:

_Come over tonight?_

James sighed. As tempting as a few rounds between the sheets sounded, he'd planned on a few rounds with this bourbon too. No way was he driving over there. He texted back:

_Sorry princess can't drive right now_

His phone buzzed again: _I can come there. Been missing you. A lot_

James smirked before responding: _Oh yeah? How much?_

She responded: _I'll show you when I get there_

James felt a familiar pull of heat in his gut as he read those words. He and Kathryn had never made their relationship an official one, both content with each other's company but more satisfied with their physical relationship. Their fathers knew each other, so they would attend the same dinner functions and galas. Overall, despite her occasional possessiveness, it was a habit that sat well with both of them.

James replied _See you soon_ and set his phone on the counter, looking around to make sure nothing needed picked up. It was then that he noticed the envelope on the floor in front of the door. Brow furrowing, he picked it up, seeing the outside had nothing written on it. He sat at the counter again and tore the envelope open.

Something dropped to the ground but James decided to look at the note inside first. He felt his stomach clench as he read it.

_I have information for you regarding the attack on your brother. Should you wish to acquire it, meet at the South pond in two days. 7:30A.M. Don't be late._

He re-read the note again, confirming his fears that the attack on David was not a random, isolated incident. Someone had information, which meant that they were assigned to keep watch on the streets. If the others were watching, sending out their spies and informants, then things could turn ugly if a territory dispute erupted.

James glanced down, remembering the thing that fell out of the envelope.

"What the hell?" he said to himself as he picked it up.

It was a single playing card, the Jack of Clubs. Turning it over, James took in the pattern on the back; a white rabbit holding a cane and wearing a top hat.

* * *

 

_Present day_

David was still wondering if he was dreaming as he grabbed the containers of food and drinks he'd bought and made his way over to the back corner booth. Of all the scenarios of things that could have happened on this pick up shift, this one never remotely crossed his mind. He wasn't sure who or what to thank, but he was infinitely grateful he'd run into Mary Margaret when he did. The thought of someone trying to hurt her made him want to go back out there and hunt them down himself, protocol be damned.

He sat down with his back to the wall so that he could see the rest of the truck stop. The only difference between it and a regular gas station was the size and amount of extras it offered (like the eat-in cafe he'd ordered from). There was also the usual candy, snacks, and miscellaneous section, which was where Mary Margaret had bustled off to as soon as they'd come in.

David looked up to see her hurrying around the corner, a plastic bag in her hand. The pull he felt toward her every time he saw her hit him again to the point he had to remember to breathe for a moment. Despite her smile, she still appeared a bit pale to him. It didn't surprise him, after the scare she'd had, but now the challenge was getting her to eat something without her catching on how concerned he was.

"I got the necessary medical equipment," she said brightly, holding up the bag with a grin as she slid into the seat opposite him. "You won't be dying on my watch."

David chuckled and scooted the food and drinks in front of her. "I wasn't sure what you'd like so I got a few different options."

Mary Margaret took in the items in front of her, a new emotion David hadn't seen yet playing on her face. She looked almost touched as she met his eyes again.

"Thank you, you didn't have to do that."

"Part of the trade," David reminded her with a half grin, hoping it would lighten the mood so she wouldn't feel uncomfortable. "The cup on the right is apple juice and the left is orange. I didn't think you'd want caffeine given it's almost 11:30 at night."

"Very thoughtful of you Prince Charming," she said, cheekiness returning. "I might have to reward you for that."

David raised his eyebrows, quite unsure where this was going, but happy she seemed to be comfortable enough to joke with him again. Mary Margaret leaned forward in secrecy.

"I hate apples," she whispered, leaning back with a smirk and grabbing the cup of orange juice and taking a sip from the straw.

David chuckled. "An interesting quirk. May I ask why?"

"Nope," she quipped, moving to open a box of bandages. "You're going to technically be in my debt after I clean you up. That was just a freebie."

"Ah yes, of course," David responded, rolling his eyes in mock exasperation. He watched as she opened the antiseptic wipes next, eyes narrowing as he saw her hands trembling slightly.

"Food's getting cold," he hinted.

"I'm taking care of your cut first," she replied.

"Mary Margaret-"

"I'm not going to fall over in shock on you, Prince Charming," she interrupted, throwing him a level look and a teasing smile. "I know the symptoms and I'm fine."

_Well, so much for her not catching on_ , he thought. He should have known better, really.

She raised her eyebrows, a knowing smile on her lips. He must have looked appropriately sheepish, though, because her eyes softened a bit as she got up and motioned for him to scoot over so she could sit beside him. Her closeness made his heart quicken, every beautiful detail of her features capturing his gaze.

"Can you turn towards me please?" she asked, opening one of the antiseptic wipes.

David obliged, turning his upper body toward her and resting an elbow on the back of the booth. He took a quick breath, willing himself to calm down and not act like an idiot.

"Ready?" she asked, turning her eyes to his again.

_Was he still breathing?_

Somehow, words escaped him as he gazed at her. So instead, he nodded in assent. He hoped he wasn't looking at her as intensely as he felt at the moment but, judging by how still she became, he probably was. Her eyes widened, her lips parted slightly, and he could see the beginnings of a blush staining her cheeks. It took every ounce of will power in his body not to kiss her right then and there.

Mary Margaret blinked and David watched her throat work as she swallowed. If he wasn't holding his breath before then he certainly was now, waiting to see what she would do. After a long, agonizing moment, a soft smile played at her lips and she tentatively began to raise her hand to his chin.

"Ow," he said dryly as she placed the wipe on the cut.

"Oh, poor baby," she teased, dabbing at his chin.

"Are you sure I still owe you a debt after all this pain and suffering?" he asked, watching her closely as she worked.

"Yes," Mary Margaret said bluntly, eliciting a laugh from him. "You did hang on to me when I told you to let go," she reminded him, placing the used wipe in the plastic bag.

"For all I knew you were trying to rob me," he rejoined easily. He was rather enjoying this, bantering with her. She snorted before looking down to open a tube of antibacterial cream.

"Some bandit I am. I couldn't even use the mace properly. See?" She held up her right hand, showing off the knuckles that we're starting to bruise.

"Oh, your way was still pretty effective," David responded with a grin, automatically reaching for her hand to assess the damage.

Luckily, nothing appeared broken, just swollen. She did clock him pretty hard. He couldn't help but marvel at how smooth her skin was. It felt so natural, so right, taking her hand in his... His breath caught in his chest as he froze, realization of what he'd just done hitting him like she'd punched him again. He had her hand in his palm, the thumb of the other brushing over her knuckles, and he hadn't even asked her for permission.

"I'm so sorry I-" David began, releasing her hand. He was stopped short, however, by Mary Margaret reaching for him, grabbing his hand before he could fully pull away.

II

Mary Margaret watched as David held her hand between his, brow furrowed in concentration as he softly brushed his thumb over her tender knuckles to assess the damage she'd done to them. The contact, though unexpected given his hesitant nature around her, seemed so natural; his touches warm and careful, just as he'd been with her from the moment they'd met. Well, besides their uncanny knack for literally running into each other all of the time.

She looked up at his face when he froze, perhaps shocked at his own boldness.

"I'm so sorry I-" he began, pulling his hands away from hers.

Before she could even think, Mary Margaret tightened her hand around one of his. She heard his breath hitch and watched as he slowly brought his blue eyes up to meet hers. Her heart began to race at her own sudden boldness and, even more so, at the earnestness in David's gaze as he looked at her, clearly nervous for what her reaction would be yet intrigued by her actions. She was kind of wondering what just happened herself.

"Any permanent damage?" she asked, her voice not quite steady enough for the levity she was going for.

David blinked, then looked down as he took her hand in his again, massaging her knuckles gently with his thumb. Mary Margaret could feel the heat rise in her cheeks at this simple, intimate gesture. It warmed her heart, reaching a part deep inside of her she thought she'd locked away forever that dared to hope. It had been so long since she'd allowed anyone this close. Yet here was David, inadvertently sidestepping her walls she'd worked so hard to build at every turn.

"No, I think you'll be just fine," David said lowly, his slightly husky voice enough make her own breath catch.

He looked up at her again, a soft smile on his lips, blue eyes bright. She let out a breathy laugh and shifted closer to him. David looked at her questioningly as she pulled her hand away from his.

"Let's cover that up," she said softly, glancing at his cut and showing him the bandaid she'd been holding in her other hand.

David nodded, appearing relieved at her explaination, and held perfectly still. Mary Margaret could feel his eyes on her as she leaned forward and applied the bandage, careful not to press directly on the cut. She dropped her right hand back into her lap as she assessed her handiwork.

"I think it really is going to scar," she said regretfully, cupping his jaw with her left hand and tracing the outer edge of the bandaid with her thumb to make sure it was sealed. "I'm sorry."

Mary Margaret let her hand linger there a moment, taking in how her body hummed at his closeness; how much she had to control her breathing; how David swallowed before he responded.

"I'll live," he replied kindly, taking her right hand in his again and rubbing soothing circles over it.

She hummed in response, looking down at their hands. It felt safe, sitting here with him, as if his presence and touches were soothing more than just her bruised knuckles. David was deep in thought, she could tell, so she waited patiently.

"Mary Margaret?"

She glanced up at him. He looked nervous again as he took a deep breath, his eyes still looking down as he gently turned her hand over to rub circles against her palm.

"Do you.." he began, "I mean..this. Whatever this is.."

He exhaled, brow furrowed. She felt her heart beat faster she watched him try to put his thoughts into words.

"I feel connected to you," he said finally, meeting her gaze, and her breath caught at the vulnerability lacing his stark words. "I feel like.. like this..," he breathed, glancing down again and giving her hand a gentle squeeze.

"Like this is right?" she asked, tilting her head to see his face.

David's eyes darted back to hers and he nodded. "Yes."

"I.. I feel the same way," she admitted.

David's shoulders relaxed considerably at her words, and she could feel her own anxiousness over her feelings for him lessen. Miraculously, it seemed they were on the same page.

_Good Lord. Is this really happening?_

"We can just.. take it slow?" he asked, clearly taking her silence for hesitation. He would too, she knew.

"Okay Prince Charming," Mary Margaret replied, hoping the use of his nickname would counteract the heaviness of the moment. The hand that held his tingled at his touch and she felt that she now had a permanent flush to her cheeks.

"I think at _this_ point," he said, expression amused as he looked at their hands and laced his fingers through hers, "you can call me David."

Mary Margaret reveled in the warmth of his fingers intertwined with hers; how perfectly her hand fit in his.

"Nah," she quipped with a slight shake of her head. David arched a questioning eyebrow. "Charming suits you," she continued with a wry smirk.

David laughed at that, which had her grinning.

"Speaking of names," David said as he pulled the food containers toward them, "I've been wondering something."

Mary Margaret tensed a bit at that, but tried not to let it show. It was her automatic reaction, given the life she'd lived over the past ten years. She popped a fry into her mouth to give herself more time to think over her answer if the question was too heavy.

"Is your last name Margaret?" he asked.

Mary Margaret mentally exhaled in relief. _That_ she could handle.

"Ha, no. It's not," she responded after swallowing her food.

He looked at her questioningly and she sniffed out a laugh.

"Tell you what Charming," -the corners of David's lips rose at her use of the nickname-, "I'll answer your questions. However, you're still indebted to me so keep that in mind."

David chuckled, the deep, warm sound vibrating into her.

_God, she loved that sound._

"How could I forget?" he returned with a half smile.

"Snow," she said softly.

David blinked. "Sorry?"

"My last name. It's Snow." Technically, it _was_ her last name now.

"Snow," David repeated, meeting her gaze in such a way that made her pulse quicken.

Her mother may have called her Snow first, but hearing David say it was a far cry from the memories of her childhood. The name was like a caress coming from his lips, sending a shiver up her back. She couldn't help glancing at his lips then, as she'd done more than a few times tonight, unable to fathom how she could be feeling this way about him so soon. Yet, stopping was almost painful to even think about. She winced at the thought, feeling like invisible bands were tightening around her chest.

"Hey," David said softly, bending his head to meet her gaze as he squeezed her hand. "You okay?"

"Yeah," she breathed, looking at anything but him. "Yeah, I'm fine."

III

David seriously hoped he hadn't pushed Mary Margaret too far. While his heart soared at her admittance of her feelings for him, it pained him to see her struggling so much. She was trying to play it off, but he could see through her walls she'd retreated behind so clearly, it was almost unnerving.

"It's late," he said, trying to distract her. She looked up at him through her eyelashes. "Would you like to go home? It's been a long day. We could," -her brow furrowed as she considered his words- "talk again tomorrow?"

Was it bad he was happy that she didn't seem pleased with the idea?

"I could drive you to your truck," David suggested, hoping for a little more time with her.

"It's parked here," Mary Margaret responded, looking at him intently.

_Damnit_.

He looked down at their hands, taking both of hers in his. This was ridiculous. Why was he so anxious to let her go? They had only just started.. dating? No, that word seemed too casual for what this was. He shouldn't be feeling this way so soon. The only positive to this tumult of emotions was that it seemed she was of similar thinking.

"Walk me to my truck?" she asked.

David exhaled and nodded, sliding out of the booth after her. They threw their hardly eaten food away before making their way outside, Mary Margaret lacing her fingers through his as they walked. She turned to face him as they reached her truck, looking up at him with an unexpected coy smile that almost knocked him on his ass. He really needed to to remember to expect the unexpected with this woman.

"I know how you're going to repay your debt," she said brightly, canting her head to the side.

"Really, so soon?" he quipped, playing along.

"Mhm."

"It doesn't involve hitting me again does it?" he asked with a grin.

Mary Margaret narrowed her eyes at him before holding out her free hand. "Phone, Charming."

He raised his eyebrows but dug his phone out of his pocket and placed it in her hand. She started pressing buttons, hiding what she was doing from him. After a few moments, she handed it back to him.

"That's my number. You, Prince Charming, will accompany me on a date tomorrow. Or-" she glanced at her watch "-tonight. Text me your address, and I'll pick you up at five."

"You want me to repay my debt by going on a date with you?" he asked levelly, humor lacing his tone.

"It'll be an adventure," she replied, a mischievous smile on her lips. "You'll want to wear something comfortable."

David looked at her, taking a moment to truly appreciate her sass.

_This woman is going to be the death of me._

"I accept the opportunity to repay my debt to you," he said as humbly as his amusement would allow.

"Good," Mary Margaret said regally. After a moment, David could see the cheek in her smile change before his eyes. She looked down, let out a soft breath, then met his gaze again. "There's.. just one more thing I'd ask of you."

David felt like his voice was caught in his throat as she stepped closer to him, her hands resting on his elbows as his automatically ghosted her waist. He took in her green eyes, bright with an emotion he hadn't yet categorized. Her cheeks were flushed, but David was fairly certain it wasn't from the chill in the air. Lips slightly parted, she rose on her tip toes. He felt his body tense and his breath quicken as he leaned closer to her, eyes sliding shut.

It was a sweet, chaste kiss. Mary Margaret's lips were as soft as he thought they'd be and David marveled how they yielded under his. He wrapped his arms around her waist, pulling her closer as she parted her lips against his, tracing his lower lip with her tongue. A soft groan escaped from the back of his throat as he opened his mouth to her, stepping forward to back her against her driver's side door.

A voice in the back of his mind nagged that he should stop, but her tongue meeting his fanned the heat already in his veins; her hands at the back of his neck and shoulder pulling him flush against her; her body warm and perfect against his. Yes, he needed to stop, but couldn't find it in himself to do so yet.

David turned his head slightly to deepen the kiss and felt Mary Margaret shudder as he brought his hand to her neck to caress her ear. She brought both of her arms up around his neck, nipping on his upper lip before gently going over the spot with her tongue. Mary Margaret gasped as he brushed his thumb under her coat and shirt at her hip, feathering light touches over the skin there.

"David," she breathed, her nose touching his as they both tried to catch their breath.

They held on to each other, both clearly wanting more, but the voice in the back of David's head was yelling at him now, breaking through his baser wants and desires for this beautiful, infinitely kissable woman. As much as he wanted her now, this needed to stop while he had a hold of his senses.

David swallowed hard, pulling her in to tuck her head against his chest, his hand cradling the back of her head as he pressed his cheek to her temple. He could feel her body slowly relax as he held her, letting her know he wasn't going anywhere. He wasn't sure how long they stood there like this, holding each other as they both calmed down, but he secretly wished it wouldn't have to end.

Mary Margaret took a deep breath before pulling back to look at his face, smiling softly as her thumb lightly traced the bandage on his jaw.

"So. Was that portion of my payment satisfactory?" he joked, voice a little thick as he ran his palms up and down her arms against the chill in the air.

She let out a breathy laugh at that. "Oh, it'll do. For now."

David raised an eyebrow. "For now?"

"Mhm," she responded, a teasing smile playing at her lips. "It's a start anyways."

"Remind me to never be indebted to a bandit again," he rejoined in mock exasperation, blue eyes alight with humor as he pulled away to open the car door for her.

"Hm," she hummed as she slid into the driver's seat. "Don't worry, Prince Charming. I'll let you off the hook eventually."

David sniffed out a laugh, bending down and reaching for her hand to brush his lips over her knuckles. He couldn't hide his grin as she sucked in a breath.

"I'm a patient man," he said lowly, releasing her hand to straighten up and hold onto the truck door.

Mary Margaret narrowed her eyes at him. " _Charming_ , Charming. We'll see how you fare tonight."

"I'll be ready," he replied easily. "Goodnight Mary Margaret Snow."

"Good night David Nolan," she replied with a cheeky smile and tilt of her head.

He shut the door, stepping back as she started the car. She flashed him a another smile before driving off, looking almost as regretful at leaving him as he was her. David took a deep breath, hoping he'd be able to get some sleep when he got home.

He slid into the driver's seat of the squad car, pulling out his phone to text her his address. His brow furrowed as he saw her number wasn't under "Mary Margaret". He continued down his contact list, a slight irrational fear wondering if his phone hadn't saved her information, until he paused at the name that made his heart skip a beat in relief.

"Snow".

 


End file.
